The Hunt
by Lleira
Summary: A completely AU story, Patrick Jane is a psychic not touched by any drama, living without family, while Lisbon is an ex-agent, hunting down Red John after he destroyed her life. Rated M for some explicit language and reference to violence.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is something I wanted to try out...maybe someone will enjoy it :) I don´t really know if there is an audience for such a thing but if it is, I´ll be glad to continue writing it.

Thanks.

* * *

She stared at the television long after that so called psychic stopped talking. Even long after the show ended. And then she stared some more, sitting in a stinky hotel room, with TV that needed coins to function. With bed which screamed "itchy" just by looking at it. With one dirty window and a shower, where fungus happily grow.

With a glock by her hand.

"Son of a bitch," she murmured and got up from archaic leather chair that had seen it´s better times before Lisbon was even born. It squeaked in the process, the dust from it sparkling in the limited sunlight.

Lisbon didn´t mind her surrounding at all. This place was not the worst one she had to live in so far. As long as nobody bothered her, everything else was a just a detail.

TIny and unimportant detail.

Now, the important thing was to find out just how much more does a certain Patrick Jane knows about Red John, and who is his source.

Lisbon gathered all of her belongings which were able to fit in a small duffel bag and left the room, her glock hidden safely in a leg holster.

Before she sat into her old black Ford Mustang, she paid for her room in advance for the next few nights - cash only. You never know who might be watching.

The motor rumbled like an old muscle car´s should, the mighty V8 still doing it´s job after so many years. The sun was settling in, darkness finally creeping into this hemisphere yet it was still unbelievably hot. Lisbon rolled her window down a bit, letting at least some of the air into her overheated car.

Beads of sweat rolled down her face anyway, but she couldn´t care less. Her mind was set onto one thing only - Finding Patrick Jane before Red John does.

She obviously had little faith for the superstitious mumbo-jumbo that man spoke about, yeah, like he could communicate with the dead - her ass he could. The thing was ,thought, the thing that caught her attention, that he made some relevant remarks towards Red John.

Some of which a man with no connection shouldn´t know.

How the fuck did he knew was beyond Lisbon´s mind.

How the fuck he knew about the fact that Red John is small man in figure? Yeah, that could´ve been a guess, that´s for sure.

But what about the other things?

"He thinks of himself as a showman, always making sure that the first thing you see is the Red smiley face...then...and only then...bodies ."

He had said those words with eyes closed, half the country watching him in silent awe.

"He´s an art lover, enjoys poetry and classical music...think of as an artist of himself, too...the..the, uh, cuts...his style...is the expression of his"

Lisbon shivered despite the unbearable heat.

He indeed enjoys classical music, even while slicing his victims open, commenting on every little cut he does.

"Ugh," Patrick Jane grimaced, "he´s afraid, he´s...oh, God...,"still with eyes closed, "I can´t, I can´t...a phobia, he´s scared of something...what...what it is?"

Then, the so called psychic almost fell down the sofa, luckily, some quick action from the show host prevented it.

Suddenly, he was awake, asking where he is, what has happened, somebody gave him a glass of water, audience cheered and Lisbon stared at him open-mouthed.

All those things he said were a true, and none of them leaked into public, at least not until now. The smiley face, people were quite aware of Red John´s signature, but the fact you always saw it first was never mentioned.

Nor that he is a tiny man - which he is.

She saw it with her own eyes.

And the music?

She heard it with her own ears.

And the artistic side of his?

Her scars are a memento.

Another shiver run through her body and she checked her rearview mirrors, just in case.

You could never be too careful.

She was the one and only survivor of Red John attack - of course only because he wanted her to be. That bastard scared her for life and not only physically, and then left her tied up all alone until the help arrived, with only the music playing in the dark room.

She´d be damned if she knew why.

She lost her job and her life after the abduction. The only thing on her mind right now was a burning desire to catch the man before he hurt somebody else...or her, again.

A long ride was ahead of her so she turned the radio on, shifted a bit to find a comfortable position and drove on.

Destination - Malibu.

* * *

"That was a great show Paddy, great one. They loved you!" Jane´s agent said.

Arnie - an overweight middle aged man, rubbed a wet cloth over his forehead, with a spark in his eyes. Spark that said one thing - Money.

His client was starting to be more and more famous. Real famous, like, asking for autographs famous. Even if those were just a couple of girls. Hot, young girls, with huuuge...uh, eyes and bank accounts too, probably.

He gave Patrick almost half loving gaze and smiled, sweating profoundly. He always did after a show.

Patrick stretched himself like a cat on a leather couch and grinned. "It seems so."

"Seems so? They were begging for more! Eating out of your hand! Keep this shit up and we´ll be rich in a no time, my friend, I guarantee it!"

"I´ll do my best Arnie, I´ll do my best." Afterall, he always does.

"Alright!" Arnie clapped his hands and stopped walking in circles, giving Jane a motherly look, "Now let´s get you out of her so you could have some rest, lot´s of work tomorrow, eh?"

Patrick Jane nodded and got up. Arnie was not just his agent, he was sort of...man for everything. And when he needed one, Arnie became his personal driver. It always looked better to leave a place with your own driver, then to drive alone. Arnie even managed to rent a new Jaguar XJ, black one, elegant and expensive.

Jane did not ask where he got it, there was no need for questions like that. Arnold thrived on money and knew how to get them. He could smell them a mile away.

And Patrick Jane was his gold mine.

"Smile Paddy, we´re going to be on the camera," Arnie whispered to his client and opened the doors for him, revealing a rather large crown of people wanting to see a glimpse of the hot and sexy psychic.

Jane turned his bravado on and basked at the fame and shine from camera flashes. When he finally got into the luxurious car, a lot´s of photos of him had been taken.

He grinned again and opened the bottle of champagne the car provided.

Not bad for a carnie boy.

Not bad at all.

* * *

Red John stood silently in his giant red tuned living room, wondering whether is it - is he more angry or amused?

A little worm...

A pest.

How dare he spoke about him like that?

Such a lack of respect...and common sense, too.

Perhaps it was time to pay a visit to Patrick Jane - if he´s such a good psychic, he will be prepared, no?

Red John sat down with a glass of sherry in his hand. It´s been a long time since he got a chance to go out and, well, have some fun. The last time, he couldn´t finnish what he started and it made him a little letdown.

Depressed even.

Teresa Lisbon.

His one and only weakness.

She was too delicate to kill... He wanted to do more then end her existence.

He wanted her to turn to the light and join him, which she refused back then.

One day, he will have her, and he looks forward to that day.

But for tonight, he would settle with a certain psychic who just unknowingly made his last appearance and a dead wish.

He got up and went to pick up his necessaries, already making first of a few phone calls.

* * *

Full moon illuminated road to Patrick Jane´s residency when Lisbon drove her Mustang up the hill. She found his address on the internet, along with other things as his phone number, e-mail and other relatively personal stuff. Not very security wise, she mused, but it helped her a lot.

It crossed her mind for a bit that few minutes after midnight is not the greatest time to make a unexpected visit, but the thought of waiting till morning made her feel impatient and dreadful. Mister Jane would have just have to understand her point.

His house - residence - villa or whatever you call it still had some lights on inside. He´s probably still up, celebrating the success from the show. In a weird way, she felt a pang of burning anger. Red John single handedly destroyed her life, not just hers in fact, and yet there were people who were able to make a living out of him.

Talk about life not being fair.

She swore under her breath and walked out of her car into a hot, dry night.

* * *

Patrick Jane smiled at a young woman who claimed to be a model. He had an idea of that kind of model she is - a fake one. But a willing and good looking one. Just his type. He handed her a glass of champagne and sipped on his own, sitting beside her.

Arnie has left the residence for the night, letting his client to have a fun of his own. Jane was kind of glad for that. For Clarissa, he was just Patrick´s driver, not an agent.

Clarissa slide closer to him, her hand drawing circles on his chest.

"Tell me, Patrick...what´s on my mind right now?" she asked him with a sly look, while her other hand trailed into the southern region of his body after she gulped down her champagne and put the glass down.

"Oh, the same thing that´s on my mind, darling..am I right?" As if it was hard to guess.

Clarissa giggled and let him invade her personal space a little more. A lot more, actually.

He didn´t wait long to return her this favor.

* * *

Red John spied a familiar car parked not so far away from Patrick Jane´s property. A black, old school Ford Mustang.

Could it be?

His breathing became erratic as the thought of Her being here. Of course, she probably saw the show too and was curious about the psychic. And just like him, she just couldn´t wait till morning - for different reasons.

Red John had a smile on his face when he left his car with his trusty bag.

his heart pounded fast...this should be interesting.

* * *

Lisbon got to the majestic looking glass front door and rang the bell three times before something happened. She was starting to be impatient and held the button a little longer, enjoying the noise it produced.

A wild looking Patrick Jane finally emerged, with hair all tousled and walking funny. She had to hide a smirk when she saw why. He had a company...either that or he´d been having some quality alone time.

She had no idea a set of eyes were spying on her from the near bushes, like a prey, waiting patiently.

"What?" he snapped angrily after opening the front door.

"Patrick Jane?" she asked, forcing her cop persona back at the surface. She even flashed her badge, fake one, and introduced herself, "My name is agent Lisbon, I´m from the CBI and I have a couple of questions for you regarding Red John, may I come in?"

Jane felt his stomach turn into a very tiny, but a really tight knot. He knew who Teresa Lisbon is. He read her file...it´s been a source for his information used on today´s show. She was no agent. At least not anymore.

"Can I see your badge again, please?" he asked with as much confidence as he could muster. To his surprise she just rolled her eyes, and suddenly a gun appeared in her hand.

"Nope, now, may I come in?"

Patrick inhaled a sharp breath, suddenly too terrified to do a thing. From the look on her face, he could be 70% sure she wouldn´t hurt him and just wanted to talk. He cleared his throat, took the chance and said, "Well, under these circumstances, welcome," and a shiver run down his spine as Lisbon followed him into elegant looking hall. Everything in this house screamed expensive, from rugs to marble staircase to a woman standing on top of them.

"Patrick, what´s happening?" her distressed voice sounded from the top.

"Tell her to leave," Lisbon whispered into his ear with her gun pressed against his back.

"I could scream for help," he murmured.

"You could try."

He sighed.

"Uh, nothing Clarissa, I think we will have to reschedule out little tête-à-tête. You see a police officer came to talk to me about Red John. I´m sure you´ll understand. "

For a second the woman stood there, contemplating what he just said to her and suddenly her cheeks turned bright red.

"Our what? You didn´t know that was going to happen! And to talk about it in front of the police, ugh! You pig!" the woman yelped and Lisbon saw her hurry into what was probably a bedroom. She chuckled.

"God," he murmured, trying hard to decide whether he is more scared or embarrassed.

"Sit down and stay calm. Nothing will happen if you just listen to me."

Jane followed her orders and sat down at his brown leather couch fighting the urge to tremble. One thing he hated with every cell in his body were guns...preferably those aiming at him, even though he could clearly see no intention in killing him.

She glared at him, gun hidden, all while Clarissa continued her ramblings and finally came down the stairs, leaving in hurry.

"Don´t ever call me!" she yelled before storming out of his home.

Finally alone, Lisbon visibly relaxed and sat down too. He watched her closely, trying to figure her out failing at it. Nothing like this ever happened to him in ages. His eyes fell on the gun she suddenly put in front of him.

"It´s a lighter," she said. Jane, too pumped up to notice, released a long breath he didn´t knew he was holding. "What?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes again.

"The gun, it´s a fake one. I wouldn´t put you in a danger...yet."

He looked at her, stunned. "Did you just assaulted me with a fake gun?"

"Yeah," she said while taking out a cigarette from a pack and lighting it with a gun shaped lighter. "You have an ashtray somewhere?"

"No, and It would be very much obliged if you put that out, no smoking in the house I´m afraid."

"I have a real gun on me, you know," she said, puffing a little bit of smoke out of her full, red lips. Despite the whole situation he really liked what he saw, on some level. On another level, he was terrified to the core.

"In that case, here, use this glass."

"Thanks, well now let´s talk business. I need you tell me everything you know about Red John, and just so you know, if you are one of his moles, you are a dead man walking."

Patrick Jane swallowed hard.

This is not going to be good, not good at all.

He did not have got a minute to explain what he knew and from where when a classical music started playing outside. He wanted to ask what the hell is it when he saw her expression. She looked as if she saw a ghost.

Lisbon shivered. Perhaps, she was not the only one wanting to meet Patrick Jane tonight.

"He´s here," she whispered and before Jane could do a damn thing she got up, real gun in her hands this time.

"Wait! who´s here? Lisbon, who´s here?!"

"Shut up, call the cops,tell them Red John´s here" she said and left the hall. Patrick Jane turned quickly and ran upstairs to his bedroom, where he left his cell phone. As soon as he entered the room he felt that something was not right. Panic almost overtook him.

His phone wasn´t where he left it. He took a better look at the room, and soon found the remains of it, broken, probably by an angry Clarissa.

"Shit," he murmured, and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone touched his arm.

"It´s just me, calm down," Lisbon said, "did you call the cops?"

Jane unable to make a sound just pointed at the broken pieces of what was an cell phone minutes ago.

"Fuck! We need to get out of here, follow me, stay close. Do you understand?"

Patrick nodded.

"Okay, let´s go."

She lead him down the stairs and out of the hall, the music creeping her out. It seemed like it was coming from everywhere...

Her phone was in the car. She could hear Patrick Jane breathing hard right behind her, making their way to the car. That was the mission now. They managed to do it and just as she tried to unlock it the music stopped and the keys fell out of her hand.

Jane tugged at her sleeve, too terrified to speak.

"Hello again, Teresa, it´s so good to see you."

Lisbon froze at the sound of the voice.

"I would put the gun down if I was you, or your little friend here dies."

Lisbon looked up and saw him, the man in a mask, a mask that kept her awake at night for almost half a year. He was holding Clarissa, a knife pressed into her neck.

She did as he told her, the gun hitting the ground.

"Good, now. Nobody has to get hurt. Well, maybe except Mister Jane here. Apart from him, we can all walk away without a harm. I have a proposition to make, the ol´switcharoo, Teresa. Hand over the "psychic" and I´ll hand over this lovely young lady."

Clarissa´s face was full of tears and the knife pressed to her neck already made a small wound. Jane was still hiding behind Lisbon, wheezing instead of breathing.

Lisbon´s mind raced. Two lives were at stake. She barely had one. She sighed.

"Take me and let them both go," she said quietly and heard Jane squeeze a silent "no!" from his tight neck.

"What a proposition! Did you heard that? Take me and let them go! Teresa you are seriously unbelievable. But you know what? I´ll take it. Come here. Now!"

His voice changed. From a sweet and calm one into a full command mode, anger filling it.

Lisbon made a small step towards him, Patrick´s hand still holding her sleeve. It slipped out of it as he watched her walk away. Something in him cracked. Maybe it was the adrenaline or...perhpas a heap of moment, but he jumped in front of her to fetch the gun.

It all happened so fast, Patrick jumping, gun flying, Lisbon fetching it. Red John yelled and kept Clarissa as a shield with one hand and took out his own gun with another hand. He didn´t waste time and shoot towards Patrick, who was pushed away by Lisbon, the bullet hitting her left hand. She yelled in pain, and so did Red John - in anger.

"Get them!"

Patrick found the keys to Lisbon´s car just as at least three men emerged from the shadows ready to catch them. Somehow, Lisbon appeared from nowhere and took the keys from his hands, yelling, "get in!" in the process.

He did get in just in time, one of the men almost getting a hold on him.

The motor rumbled loudly, and Lisbon put the pedal down, tires squealing. Her hand was on the fire, but she fought on and was able to get moving.

"Can you shoot? They will follow us! Patrick! Can you shoot?"

Patrick snapped out of the shock, having hard time realizing what just happened.

"Clarissa...she´s still there..."

"Here´s a gun. Shoot for fucks sake!"

He took the gun, a car already behind them. Of course he could shoot. A carnie kid who can´t shoot? But shooting at people? His hands trembled when he took the gun and he tried to calm down in vain.

Lisbon drove like a maniac, tires still squealing, car flying on the road.

"I have to get rid of them! You have to help me! Shoot!"

Patrick somehow managed to nod and opened his window, firing a gun at the car behind them. They returned the fire, breaking the back window in the process, giving him a better aiming and somehow he managed to fire a bullet into a their tire blowing it in the process, the car crashing into a tree by the road.

"They´re down," he yelled waving a gun with his hand. Lisbon only nodded and drove on, feeling dizzy probably thanks to blood-loss. The adrenaline in her system did it´s job thought and she kept on going trying hard not to think what would happen to the poor Clarissa.

* * *

Red John did not swore. He rarely did. Of course, there were a lot of reasons to swear right now...but then again...if he plays his cards right, everything will came out just how he wanted.

Clarissa was dead. A certain psychic, Patrick Jane, probably killed her, with his new found accomplice - Teresa Lisbon.

"They are on the run", he told the FBI which arrived after he and his men messed with the evidence. "They shot at us, blow our tire and we had a collision. Coulnd´t follow them, then we called you," he told the FBI agent.

"Why were you here anyway?" he asked.

"Thought it would be a good idea to check on mister Jane after his show...you never know what kind of people it might attract. It was just a routine check! And I almost lost my men..." Red John sighed dramatically, rubbing his mustache. "I´m sorry, but we really need to go. Got a case and one of my man probably has a concussion. You know where to find me, right?"

The agent nodded. "Right, go sheriff. We´ll be in touch."

"Thanks agent."

Red John smiled as he and his men left the crime scene. He could hear the FBI agent talking on his phone, "Put an arrest warrant on Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon, they are armed and dangerous, driving a black Ford Mustang, last seen heading south, yeah, do it now!.

Great, he thought to himself. He sent his men to do a few things, talk to a few friends while he had a one more stop to visit.

Arnold Gupta - Jane´s agent.

Then, he left the place in hurry, grinning like a mad man he was.

* * *

Thanks for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of fresh blood and the adrenaline made him feel utterly nauseated. The thought of what happened to Clarissa made it even worse and whenLisbon made another quick turn, not slowing down for a second he just had enough."Pull over!" he yelled, trying to be heard despite the loud motor rumbling. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her face ashen.

"I´m going to be sick," he yelled some more, already putting a hand over his mouth. Lisbon swore under her breath and slowed down, the last thing she wanted right now was a puking man in her car.

She stopped and let Patrick escape as quickly as possible watching him ran for a moment, or at least trying to, then falling on all his four, throwing up. She herself felt bad enough to do the same but one of them had to remain calm. Plus she wasn´t sure about standing up.

Her hand hurt like hell, she could feel herself shiver against the chair involuntarily. Perhaps it´s time to see the damage the bastard had done. Lisbon took few steadying breaths before rolling her bloody sleeve up, revealing her pale skin and scars. The last few inches of fabric was in the way of revealing the wound and yet she couldn´t do it. Her head fell back at the head restraint and she swore again.

* * *

Patrick got up trembling badly, his head spinning like a roller coaster, legs weak as a jelly. He tried to use some of his biofeedback tricks to calm himself down while he rummaged through his pockets trying to find a handkerchief when his sight fell on the car.

"Shit," he murmured and hurried to Lisbon who seemed to be passed out on the driver seat.

He opened the drivers door with shaky hands, ready to check for her pulse when he spotted the smoke.

She was not passed out.

She was smoking.

Bleeding, on the verge of fainting and smoking.

"I´m fine," she said quietly and took a long puff.

"You´re not fine! You´re insane, give me that you crazy woman!" Jane took the cigarette from her hand and threw it on the ground angry beyond raised her head to look at him and muttered "Jerk,"under her breath, closing her eyes kneeled down to be on her level and his sight fell on hand - pale and full of scars. Suddenly , the images from her case file came to his mind and his anger lessened. He read and saw what she went through, and she almost let the maniac take her again today in order to save his and Clarissa´s life. He sighed loudly.

"It´s not the greatest idea to smoke right now, you are on a verge of fainting and that is hardly a thing we want, okay? " he said quietly, anger fading already.

"Fine," she murmured again and made a face.

"We need to take a look at the wound, Teresa," he said as calmly as he could.

"Lisbon," she said.

"What?" he asked puzzled his hands already rolling up her sleeve.

"Call me Lisbon, you jerkass..."

"Okay," he said and rolled his eyes at her, "Fair enough, Lisbon it is, now, let me take a look, will you?"

She only nodded, and kept her eyes closed still. Jane rolled up her sleeve a bit, trying to ignore the scars, and finally revealed the wound. A huge rock fell of his chest when he saw it was just a graze. Badly looking graze, but still, just a graze. No bullet inside, no hole...just a graze.

Still, it needed to be cleaned.

"It´s just a graze, but I should still clean it,I presume you do have some emergency kit somewhere?"

Lisbon opened her eyes to see for herself. When she made sure it was indeed just a graze relief flooded through her. Doctors and hospitals started to creep her out during the last half a year. And it wasnt´t like she could just enter a hospital now...in this situation.

"It´s okay, we need to get out of here, somewhere safe. If you feel better get back in."

"What?" he asked still kneeled down, his mind experiencing a shut down. "We need to get YOU to a hospital and ME to a police station! That´s what we are supposed to be doing. Not trying to get us both killed while one of us, wounded one, is driving like a madman...woman! We should...we have to..." Jane stood up and started walking around, nausea hitting him again.

Lisbon sighed. Despite the pain and the dizziness she felt, she got up and walked, very slowly, to panicking Patrick Jane. She reached for his face as his breathing again started to sound more like a boiler giving a birth then actual breathing. She grabbed his face with both hands, ignoring the pain as much as she could, and made him stop walking.

"Look at me," she said calmly, seeing he was starting to get into shock. To be honest, she did not blame him, not after he just experienced. All he wanted to do was to get lucky tonight with some pretty, dumb chick and instead a freaking serial killer came to visit him.

Well, and her.

That would be too much for any man.

"Look at me," she said slower this time as his eyes met hers, "I need you to breathe, in and out, like this. Slowly. Can you do that?"

He nodded, following her breathing.

"Good, good, you´re doing fine, just breathe, it´s going to be okay," she repeated, pretty much sure that nothing is ever going to be okay, again. But it worked. After a while during which they stood like two crazy persons in the middle of nowhere, Patrick sighed, blinking rapidly.

"I´m alright, I´m fine...Thank you."

Lisbon just nodded and released his face from her hands, hissing in pain. At that sound Patrick finally snapped out of it and he caught her before she hit the ground. He then half carried, half walked her to the car, both of them silent. When Patrick tried to help her sit at the passenger seat, she wiggled out of his hands, took few steadying steps and got into the driver seat, sighing loudly.

"Are you always so stubborn?" he asked after staring at her blankly for a while.

"Take a wild guess."

Patrick shook his head in disbelief, and sat at the passenger seat, feeling just like he looked. Terrible. Tired. Scared. Nauseated.

"We can´t call cops, or go to a police station if you want to stay alive."

"Oh, really? I thought it was the other way around. If you wanted to stay alive after a serial killer tried to end your life, calling the cops sounds like a good idea, you know, in general."

Lisbon sighed again and gave him a frowning look. For a second a smile played on her lips, smile which haven´t reach her eyes at all.

"Tell me Jane, what car was following us? The one you shoot at?"

"Wha -?"

"Just think," Lisbon said and licked her dry lips, aching for water of any kind. Preferably with a bit of alcohol in it.

Patrick closed his eyes and did as she told him. He thought. Even though his mind acted as a storage for anything that ever happened to him, and to others, all neatly stocked inside his mind palace, remembering this night was off the menu. But he did it anyway and suddenly he realized what was she talking about.

It was a police car.

Those three men trying to get a hold on him were most likely police.

Just like the man who tried to kill him. And her too.

"Got it, huh? Red John is not one man. It´s an association with lot´s of people, powerful people, involved. So...if you want to go to police and let yourself be killed, it´s up to you. I wont stop you."

Despite the heat, Patrick shivered. What she said made a lot of sense, he even thought about it himself while going through some of those case files Arnie got for him. It was highly unlikely that one man could be capable of cleaning up after himself for so long. No mistakes - no evidence. Not even in the early years when the murders started.

"Alright, what is your proposition then? To be on the run for the rest of our lives? Unlike you, I actually have a life, you know."

Lisbon grinned as the sun started to raise. "Ouch," she said sarcastically. "Look, if it weren´t for me today, there´d be two bodies at your residence right now...don´t look at me like that, you know damn well she´s dead."

Patrick couldn´t help himself as the panic start to rose again, his imagination giving him a perfect view of what probably happened at his residence. Suddenly, a small, cold hand covered his.

"I´m sorry. But you know that, he wouldn´t let her live. Not a chance."

He only nodded, head bowed.

"I uh...It´s just...it´s all my fault..."

Lisbon sighed. She knew exactly what was the man is going through. She made a similar mistake a year ago, claiming that to end the terror of Red John, gave a speech about it on a press conference as a senior CBI agent after the SacPD transferred the case to her team. Few months later, Red John left her a message - her friend and colleague, former boss, Samuel Bosco had been found dead at his house alongside with his wife Mandy - a red smiley face painted with their blood on the wall just above the deathbed.

After that, everything in her life went downhill, right to the moment when Red John came to visit her in her own house. She remembered it all too well, the weird feeling that something is not right just as she entered hers kitchen. The tingling sensation she felt on her neck, the one you feel when somebody is watching, spying...Her hand reaching for her gun instinctively...yet slowly. Too slow.

"Hello, Teresa, it´s nice to meet you in person finally."

A stunt gun buzzed as she felt a pang of pain run through her whole body.

Then there was blackness but only for a short time.

He kept her for three days, three long days...she wished for it to be over...and was - still is - ashamed of it till today.

Lisbon sighed. No good will come from thinking about that right now.

"Look, you´re going to have learn to live with that, self pity will destroy you. Take it from someone who knows."

She could her him sigh quietly. "I don´t know if I can do that."

Lisbon scoffed, "You can, it just takes time...but anyway I should be on the way -"

It was Patrick´s turn to scoff. "To where? What is our plan exactly?"

Lisbon looked at him with her eyebrows raised, "Our plan?"

Patrick turned his full attention to her. "Yes, our plan, granted if you let me be part of it, of course," he added after she scoffed at him again. "It´s...not personal just for you. Not anymore. Let me help you."

Lisbon looked out of the window watching the sun rise. Everything was bathed in bright orange, the road, grass, trees..."You might end up dead," she said averting his intense gaze.

"Maybe," he said, "maybe not."

Suddenly, Lisbon grabbed him under his neck with her uninjured hand, looking furious. "What do you meant it´s not personal just for me?"

"Calm down! I read your file! My agent got it for me...I-uh- needed the information for the show and we figured you´ll be the best source of it since you are the only one who...survived..."

For a short few seconds, Patrick was almost sure she is going to hurt him but despite what she felt, Lisbon let his shirt slip out of her hand, slowly gaining control over herself. "I´m sorry Lisbon...for all of it -"he said hoarsely before she cut him off.

"Don´t," she said and shook her head, "We need to get going. "

"Okay," he whispered, "I might have an idea where to go."

Lisbon only nodded, engine already rumbling. "And where that might be?"

"I´ll tell you, if you let me take care of your hand first."

* * *

Cho stood silently in his tiny living room, gawking at the News on the TV. "Shit," he muttered silently. Lisbon a murderer? Not in this lifetime.

His phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket looking at the caller ID. Rigsby. Cho took a second before he picked it up.

"It´s Cho. Yeah I seen it. No, I don´t know where she is. She didn´t do it. I heard what the FBI says, she did not do it. I´ll try to contact her. Yeah, I´ll let you know. Say hi to Grace for me."

With that he hung up, his cold exterior not letting an emotion pass on his face. Staying calm. That is the key. Lisbon once let him a number to contact her if there is an emergency. They did not classify what an emergency is, but Cho was pretty sure this qualifies.

With gun already in his holster, Cho went to retrieve the little piece of paper he kept safe for almost a half a year, feeling like Frodo Baggins retrieving the ring for Gandalf.

He shook his head while heading into his cozy bedroom. He had been reading too much lately.

* * *

Arnie was sound asleep when a shady figure lockpicked his front door easily. He was still sound asleep when the intruder got to his bed, grinning over him. He had no idea what happened to him during a short while in which the intruder spoke to him, but when he woke up, he was quite sure that Patrick Jane is in fact a Red John copycat. He had that suspicion since they´ve met. This only proves it. He is glad to be alive - and will probably need a few police officers watching over him until his former client is caught.

Red John left Arnold´s house, happy that it all went even smoother than he expected. He called one of his most treasured men, one who was able to get into FBI high ranks and informed him about the whole situation.

Arnold stays alive. For now. He can always end his pathetic little existence later, when his purpose is over.

If he´s lucky, it will be soon.

They will find them sooner or later.

* * *

Patrick let her drive for another hour until her eyes closed again, this time long enough to almost hit the nearest tree past the road. He was fast enough to take the wheel and turn it to avoid the inevitable collision.

"Stop right now," he yelled at her when Lisbon finally opened her eyes and realized what happened. She jumped on the brake, tires squealing loudly.

"The fuck is wrong with you..." she said groggily when the car stopped and she put it into parking.

Luckily, the road was empty, as they headed to Patrick´s hiding place which was somewhere in the mountains. He used it more than once during his life, mainly after some of his bigger career screw-ups. Nobody knew where it was, because nobody knew that it existed. He hadn´t been there in months.

"With me? Nothing! I am not the one who almost rode us into that tree. Lisbon, I am begging you, let me drive," he said pleading.

"i´m fine...just tired." She didn´t have to tell him about the long drive to his place.

"That´s why we should switch places. I am quite capable of driving, despite what my looks tells you. I drove much bigger cars than this since I was twelve."

Lisbon looked at him with those groggy eyes, giant black circles under them. Her pale skin made them even more evident. She looked like some kind of malnourished panda. "Like what?" she asked.

"My folks are...were, carnie people. We moved around a lot. I could park an Airstream before you could even ride a bike. This will be piece of cake."

She smiled. And this time Patrick was sure it was genuine. "I doubt it."

"Let me banish your doubts then, I´ll be more then happy to demonstrate my skills and as a bonus we might just survive the ride to my place."

Lisbon sighed silently. Her car. She never let anyone drive it, never. Not once. Not her brothers, friends, colleagues...well, Cho drove it once. She couldn´t resist his not so stoic face back then. Then again, she was indeed barely keeping her eyes open. Maybe if she rested for a while, it might help.

"Alright. Just once. And just because I´m tired as hell. Don´t get used to it."

"I wont," Patrick said while already getting out of the car when a phone rang, scarring the crap of both of them.

"Shit," Lisbon murmured and reached for the glove department. Opening it revealed her burner phone ringing. Only one person had her phone number. Cho.

Lisbon took the phone into her shaky hands and answered.

"Yeah?"

"Lisbon?

"Cho?"

"Yeah, it´s Cho. You okay?"

Lisbon looked at Patrick who was bowing down looking at her. She nodded at him letting him know that it´s okay but from his expression he already knew it.

"Not really. It´s already on the news?"

"Yes. The FBI says you and Patrick Jane killed a woman. They are looking for you, there is an arrest warrant for both of you."

"That was Red John. I...well, we escaped."

Cho was silent for a while. "What were you doing there, Lisbon?"

"I wanted to share a few words with mister Jane. I was not the only one. Red John was waiting there, probably wanted to kill Jane for what he said at his show."

"So you still hunting him," Cho said half accusing, half asking.

"Yes," she said stubbornly.

"Okay, where are you? You sound bad, are you wounded?"

When Lisbon didn´t answer right away Cho guessed it on his own.

"How bad?"

"Just a graze.

"I don´t believe you. You need help, tell me where you are."

"Why? So you come here and ruin your life? Your career?"

"I don´t have any. I quit. We all did."

Lisbon stared blankly in front of her not really looking anywhere in general. She just stared. Her vision started to blurry, colors leaving too, grass, trees, Jane´s wild curls turned into shades of grey.

"You what?"

"Quit, me, Rigsby and Van Pelt."

"Lisbon? Lisbon!"

Lisbon let the phone fell from her hands, the fatigue, blood-loss and thirst finally taking it´s toll. Patrick watched her slip from conscious state into unconscious one, the person on the other line still calling her name in vain. It took him three seconds to get to her, and when he made sure her pulse is strong and steady, he picked up the fallen phone.

"She fainted," he said with shaky voice.

"What happened?" a calm yet commanding voice asked.

"She was shot. It´s just a graze but she lost some blood."

"Is she still bleeding?"

"No, we stopped it."

"That´s good. Where are you?"

Jane told him. He told him where they are headed and when the man, who´s introduced himself as Cho, hang up with the promise in arriving as soon as possible to the given address, Patrick gently picked Lisbon up and carried her to the passenger's seat. He checked for her pulse once more time, listened to her breathing for a moment and when he was satisfied with his findings, he put his coat jacket over her. Despite the heat, her hands were cold.

Then he drove off pushing worry thoughts at the back of his head. He needed to focus now. A lot was in stake right now. He rode further hoping, pleading and despite being an atheist, praying to any God that might care, that nobody was following them.

* * *

 **Well, I tried, hope you liked it :) Thank you for reading and reviewing**


	3. Chapter 3

Darkness enveloped her once again as Teresa Lisbon, a senior CBI agent lied almost naked - dressed only in her black sports bra and panties - on a cold steel bed. Her hair was loose, and the cross she wore every day since her mother died, was missing. She could no longer feel the weight and coldness of it.

Her hands and legs were strapped down, she couldn´t move.

Her breathing was ragged, close to hyperventilating. It was so hard to remain calm under these circumstances even though she was trained for such an event.

Nothing could prepare her for this, anyway.

"Hey," she yelled, "is anybody in here? I´ve been abducted!"

Her chest rose up and down franticly as she yelled some more, just as she was trying to get free from the leather shackles which were starting to cut into her white skin.

"Quiet Teresa, no one can hear you, except me," came a soft murmur from behind her. She tried to look at the place where the voice came from, but being strapped down limited her movements. She couldn´t see the man, but knew who he was nevertheless.

Deep fear...no...shear horror settled into her mind. She couldn´t speak, nor yell anymore. Her vain tries to free herself has stopped. She knew very well what will follow now.

Then, all of sudden, the classical music started to play all around her.

She closed her eyes as the tears started to flow, her soft sobs mixing with Bach playing in the background.

She could her a soft chuckle escaping his mouth, she could hear his footsteps inching his way closer to her despite the tunes.

"Finally. I have you here with me. Oh, don´t be afraid Teresa. It´s going to be wonderful. Believe me...I waited long enough for a person like you. Strong. Stubborn. Ambitious. Faithful. Confident yet caring. But you know what Teresa? Everybody bleeds the same... so let´s start, shall we?"

Seconds later, he slashed her left hand with a swift professional movement and she cried out in pain.

* * *

Patrick Jane was sitting with an ex-agent Cho in the tiny kitchen in his cabin, talking about what to do next when a muffled cry scared the shit out of both of them.

"Lisbon," Patrick murmured and Cho nodded both of them already on their feet. She was trashing on the giant leather couch, obviously having a nightmare and by the look of if, a really bad one. Both of them hurried to her, Patrick already trying to disentangle her from the blanket she was covered and now, tangled with. He could hear Cho, saying something about waking up and before he knew it a small fist - yet strong one - aimed for his face just as he was able to get the blanket off her.

Million stars played in front of his eyes and he fell back, feeling blood on his lips.

"Ouch..." he murmured and remained seated on the ground, his hands already checking the damage she´s done on his nose. It hurt like hell.

"Boss, you´re having a nightmare, wake up..." Cho kept saying to her and held her hands safely down. She tried to wiggle out of them as she cried out some more until her eyelids fluttered open. She gave Cho a crazed look successfully wiggling out of his hand and sat up.

"What´s happening? Where am I? Cho? What the fuck...?" she said and tried to calm her breathing down. She was no longer in the dark room, well, technically she was in a dark room but this was a different dark room.

"You had a nightmare.," Cho said calmly and continued to look at her with his stoic expression, hands crossed on his chest.

"You can really throw a punch, woman," Patrick said in a stranded voice and Lisbon finally realized where she was. She looked down at where he was sitting and holding his nose with both of his hands.

"Shit, did I punch you?"

"It seems so..."

She gazed at him with what could almost be considered as concern until her sight fell on her ex colleague. The almost concern quickly changed into full anger.

"I told you not to come here Cho!" she said and stood up looking him right in the eye.

"Nice to see you too, Boss...," Cho stated without even moving a muscle and after a moment added, "You look awful."

Lisbon glared at him angrily while Cho returned her stare in his stoic manner.

Seconds later, Lisbon chuckled releasing the tension between them and Cho enveloped her in a tight hug.

"You´re an idiot Cho, you really shouldn´t have come here..." Patrick could hear her say almost softly. He felt bad for staring at them, so instead of sitting on a ground like some hurt child, he got up and went to clean the blood off his face and hands. Not that anyone noticed it.

He walked past the kitchen into the gloomy bathroom and flipped on the switch to he could see if Lisbon´s iron fist managed to broke his nose.

After a close inspection Patrick came to a conclusion that it´s not broken, just hurt like hell. It´s not the first time he had to wash some blood of his face, not in his line of work. He did it as best as he could, splashing cold water on his face and neck.

"You got any alcohol in here?" Cho asked all of sudden making Patrick jump in scare. The running water prevented him from hearing Cho´s footsteps. That and his troubled nerves.

"Uh, might have some Scotch I think..."

"Good. Go get it. Lisbon´s hand needs stitching."

* * *

Patrick watched the freak show in front of him in silent awe. He went to fetch the scotch, thinking it would be needed to for disinfection, as alcohol is widely use for it - instead, Cho had his own Suture kit with him, containing everything he needed for the job. He was holding a needle with a hemostat, already being in the middle of the wound while Lisbon sipped on the scotch Jane provided.

Since it was from the bottle...it wasn´t much of a sipping , to be honest.

Only the beads of sweat that formed on her forehead gave her up - it must´ve hurt and it did. But he had to admire her toughness, she didn´t flinch, not made a sound. Not a whine.

"Can´t you hurry up a bit?" she asked bemused, "we got a lot to discuss."

"Discuss then, there is two of you. I want to do it properly," Cho replied focused solemnly on his work.

"Or what? Will I have an ugly scar otherwise? Please...," she said frowning and Patrick watched as she took another swing from the bottle.

"You shouldn´t be drinking so much on an empty stomach. It will go straight to your head and we need to be alert now, don´t we?"

Lisbon gave him a grave look which he returned fully. He knew that somewhere under all that hard exterior is a sensible person. And to prove his point, she sighed and put the bottle on the table in front of her.

"Right. No more booze. How long was I out, anyway?"

"Thirteen hours...ish," Patrick answered.

Lisbon eyes opened wide. It´s been some time since she could sleep more than three hours a night.

"You sure about that?"

"Don´t move so much Boss," Cho quipped.

"I´m not your boss Cho, not anymore."

"Okay," he replied and carried on, "all done."

"Thanks, Cho," Lisbon replied emitting only a small nod from the man.

The trio sat in a dimly lit living room, looking around at each other as if each and every one of them had no idea what to do next. Cho told Patrick about how every cop in the state is looking for them. How the FBI is looking for them.

He even gave him a completely new information about his agent, who had been claiming on live television that he had always suspected him to be a murdered.

"All right, we need a plan," Patrick said all of sudden and stood up, "Tea, anyone?"

* * *

Dennis Abbott, the head of the FBI in Austin, Texas, read the recent case files containing information about the notoriously know ex- senior CBI agent Teresa Lisbon. Something was bugging him, something was not quite right. And he didn´t get where he was right now for ignoring his own gut.

He made few calls, pulled a few strings to get a hold on files -off the record - of those four cops, who claimed to witness Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon leaving scene after murdering the poor girl - Clarissa Bianco.

Even though the evidence pointed to those two, the place was full of their fingerprints - but Patrick Jane lived there, so why it wouldn´t be? All right, Lisbon´s being there was still a bit of mystery to him, but it had might something to do with Jane´s psychic show which aired just the night of the murder.

Jane´s agent claimed that he always thought about him as a high-functioning psychopath and was just waiting for something like this to happen. Which was ridiculous. Patrick Jane came from a carnie circuit, had been a fraud - a Boy Wonder - since he could stand on the stage, his main goal being conning people and making money out of it. At least that was what Abbott get off from the information he could muster on the man. There was nothing that screamed psychopath about him.

Fraud? Yes.

Murdered?

Hell no.

And why, why on earth would Teresa Lisbon join a Red John copycat? Everybody was saying she went crazy after the abduction. She was off the radar and for almost six months and not even the FBI could get a hold on her, but Abbott met her, sometime after her release from the hospital. She was shaken, yes.

Crazy?

No.

She made a lot of sense to him back then despite the way she presented herself.

"He´s powerful. Watch your step Abbott," were the last words she said to him and he assumed she was just being paranoid and to be honest, who could blame her?

Now, with the recent events on roll, with the press going crazy about a serial killer copycat being on the loose alongside with the actual serial killer, he just might understood what she had meant back then.

The FBI was getting the case. The team who was given it back then was gone. Lisbon, Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt, all of them gone. He kept a record on them. Cho wanted to enroll himself into the U.S. Army, Rigsby and Van Pelt got married and had to leave the CBI thanks to the regulations and now were running their own business as private investigators.

Maybe he shall give them a call, sooner than later. If his assumptions are correct, they might be in serious danger - all of them.

* * *

Red John was smiling after the refreshing phone call he got. One of his FBI man gave him an information that lightened up his day. The director of FBI, Austin, Texas - Dennis Abbott, was trying to look into him and his men. Off the record!

How interesting.

It´s been such a long time since anybody got interested in his games. At least after his brief meeting with agent Lisbon - no one compared to her, not anymore.

He looked through the maps in front of him, trying to guess where in the hell might a certain psychic and his favorite agent be hiding.

He had some guesses and soon some of his men will have to look around a bit.

"We got a call sheriff - domestic violence," said the newest member of the team, a promising young man called Brett. Red John nodded, folded up his maps neatly and stacked them in his drawer.

"Right, on my way," he said but his mind was occupied by something else entirely. Luckily for him, acting and reacting was something he had mastered a while ago.

Ages ago in fact.

"Brett, you´re coming with me."

Brett nodded briefly, trying to hide his excitement. Red John smiled to himself. Another man who would be his, another possible follower.

* * *

Arnie gulped down another shot of tequila feeling a bit funny. His one and only client was wanted for murdering a woman at his residence.

His gold mine was gone but...as it turned out when one door closes another doors opens.

He got another invitation to be a host on some pretentious night show, as the public was curious about his former client. The FBI told him it is not such a great idea to attend, but the amount of money the producers promised him changed his mind quickly.

Yet, something did not feel right, couldn´t get the nagging feeling that something is terribly wrong, out of his head. Every time tried to think about it he got a headache. So instead of thinking , Arnie poured himself one last shot before starting to get ready for the TV appearance.

How did the tables have turned - he used to drove Patrick to and from a show, pretending to be his personal driver and tonight, a limousine was set out to pick him up.

A limo for crying out loud.

He was now the star.

And it felt oddly good.

* * *

Patrick was half-way in preparing three cups of tea when the enraged voices from living room got to him.

"I left to PROTECT you!"

"I am quite capable of doing it on my own boss. I am not a child."

"Stop calling me boss Cho! That´s what I thought and look where it brought me! It took him two minutes Cho, two fucking minutes to take me down! And I´m trained just as you are! You think he would leave you alive? Huh? Even if he did, you wished he wouldn´t just like I did!"

There was silence for a moment, only the boiling water bubbling in the kettle making its way into Patrick´s ears.

"You think you´ve would defend yourself better than me..."

"Lisbon..."

"Maybe you will get your chance if you stay here Cho...I´m going to get some fresh air."

And suddenly doors were being opened and closed forcefully.

And the kettle hissed.

Patrick sighed and poured the boiling water into three cups.

* * *

Lisbon walked up and down on the driveway to burn the pent up energy, feeling frustrated, angry and to be honest - terrified. Not because the fear for herself, but because of the possibility of other people, who meant something to her, might end up being butchered. She took out the cigarettes out of her pocket and lighted one. A disgusting habit she would never ever bothered to start and yet...

She sucked in the nicotine and released a long puff, her body cherishing the kick it gave.

Someone opened the front door and she huffed. She was not in the mood to talk nor to Cho, or to Jane.

"I made chamomile tea," he stated calmly, sensing her discomfort.

"Good for you," she said back quietly, without anger, just the weariness filling her voice.

"We´ll be waiting for you - the plan. We still need a plan."Patrick said but she remained silent.

"Look I know it´s -"

"You know nothing Mr. Jane," she skipped in before he could finish the sentence.

"That´s an incorrect assumption, I know a lot, actually."

"You do don´t you, after reading my file, it´s hardly a thing to brag about," she snapped back angrily this time and turned to him, throwing a cigarette but onto ground.

"I know more then what your file revealed. It´s not just files I can read," Patrick stated and gave her a concerned look before continuing.

"You lost about 17 pounds since the release from the hospital. You started smoking right after - the habit which repulsed you before is now giving you a false sense of some control in your life - hence the weight loss. You also started drinking, moderately, you know when to stop and the fear of becoming an alcoholic is forbidding you from going further. You´ve probably been raised by an alcoholic parent - my guess would be the father -, and that´s where your fear come from. You are the oldest of your siblings - probably brothers, two or more. Haven´t seen them in more than a year."

"You are a believer, but what happened shook your faith to the core and you find it hard to get back to it. You haven´t prayed since the attack, nor been to any church."

"You use sarcasm as a defense mechanism, and you have been able to successful lash out to anybody who tried to help you after the abduction...not because you didn´t want the help, no...you were...are afraid that Red John might give the same treatment to somebody you care about and that is terrifying you to the core."

"And lastly, you think that Red John took everything from you and what remained is a shell of a person who used to be someone...but I truly disagree on this part. You are still strong, you are still worthy. And this time...you´re not alone...now, care for some tea?"

Lisbon stood there, her eyes locked at the blonde man in front of her, flabbergasted. Everything he said was true and it resonated strongly inside her. But she refused to let it get to her. Somehow, he had it all figured out, so what. So instead of bursting into tears and seeking shelter in his arms, Lisbon simply stated "No shit, Sherlock," and went inside to have some freaking chamomile tea.

Patrick chuckled softly and followed her inside.

* * *

"There were four persons on the scene and one of them was Red John," Patrick said confidently, sipping on the calming chamomile tea. "All we need to do is get a hold on their names and figure which one of them it was."

"He could´ve left the scene after the police came," Cho said and sipped on the tea, too.

"True, but I highly doubt it. He is a showman and enjoys being the smartest person in the room, there is a very little chance of him leaving...about twenty percent chance."

Lisbon nodded. "I think Jane might be right...I don´t think he would´ve left...being as he is."

"Okay. I can call Rigsby, he could get the names of the -"

"No," Lisbon said firmly. "It´s bad enough that you two are involved, no need to get anyone else into danger."

Both of them, Patrick and Cho, gave her a sheepish look, and Cho said, "They already know where I am and what is happening. I´ve been in touch with them since I came here. They want to help us Lisbon."

Lisbon stared at him, her mind refusing to admit the information he gave her, lost for words.

"They got married, three months ago."

Lisbon only nodded, feeling Patrick´s intense glare at her.

"They want to get rid of him just as you do, Lisbon," Cho said.

"I think I need to lie down," Lisbon said all of sudden, dizziness overcoming her once again. When was the last time she ate?

Cho stood up and helped her to get up and Patrick followed them silently watching Cho lowering ashen Lisbon onto the couch.

"I´m going to get something to eat," Patrick said and let the two of them have the much needed privacy.

"You okay?" Cho asked when Patrick left the room and Lisbon nodded slightly.

"You shouldn´t have called them. I didn´t spent the last six months hiding like some sort of criminal to get all of you involved into...into...this."

"What if we want to be involved."

"Then you are crazy, all of you, and I taught you nothing."

"Bullshit," Cho responded calmly and she had to smile. Cho rarely used any kind of swear words, always keeping his cool. "Let us help. You don´t have to do this all on your own. I was not lying when I said you look awful. You do Lisbon. Horrible."

"Gee, thanks," Lisbon replied sarcastically. When Cho just kept staring at her with that stoic expression loosely translated as "I´m being tired of your bullshit stare," Lisbon sighed.

"Okay. But If you get yourself killed I swear I´m going to kill you again once more."

"Fine. Deal."

At that moment, Patrick strode into the living room with three plates filled with what looked like spaghetti from a can.

"Anyone feeling peckish? As far as I´m concerned, it´s best to feast on something before conducting a plan, even if it´s only a canned spaghetti."

Lisbon and Cho exchanged amused looks which Patrick could clearly see. He smiled and handed both of them a plate, sitting down on the couch.

"Dig in," he said.

And they did.

* * *

Thanks each and everyone for reading and also for leaving a review, and I hope you enjoyed reading this new chapter :)


	4. Chapter 4

Lisbon stood near the small window in the living room, watching the outside world go by - since it was a forest, nothing really got by, except animals. It was her turn to be on guard, while the two other men slept their tiredness off. She was asleep for almost whole day so it was only fair to be the first one on guard. Cho was snoring lightly on the couch while Jane went into a small bedroom and closed the doors behind him.

She couldn´t tell whether he was asleep or not and nor she cared.

All right.

She cared a little.

For all she known, he is a civilian sucked in a dangerous situation he had no control over. She and Cho being in danger was different. They were trained for it, used to it. It was an occupational hazard in their line of work. Of course a fake psychic might as well face some kind of danger but far from what she and Cho were used to. A punch in the nose here, a kick in the gut there...that´s nothing compared to the feeling of being possibly shot everyday while working.

Or being captured by a crazy serial killer for that matter.

She sighed quietly looking out of the window being almost sure that Mrs... Jane was not sleeping at all.

Perhaps it was time to show him her little black notebook of hers. With a mind of his, he could easily see what she might have overlooked. It was not a nice thought, or a pleasing one, but then again, beggars can´t be choosers.

She left the window, leaving the migrating deer and other animals she couldn´t see to themselves, and went to knock on Jane´s bedroom, fixing Cho´s fallen blanket on the way.

* * *

Jane was wide awake, there was no point in trying to sleep. He tried it, for some minutes, but his mind was unable to shut down. No amount of biofeedback had helped him and the images from past days swirled in his mind wildly. He tried to conceal the gut wrenching fear he felt all the time, carrying a carefree face, but once in his tiny bedroom, all alone, a thought occurred to him.

He might in fact die.

That´s something he was not prepared to do.

Life had just started to be...interesting.

He sighed and turned over in his bed when a silent knock disrupted and also gave him a mini heart attack.

"It´s me," Lisbon´s voice, silent, came through the door, "Can I come in?"

He sat up and his hands went straight to his tousled hair. It was almost automatic and it surprised him that he actually cared about what the woman behind the door thinks of him.

That was new.

And kind of dangerous.

"Come in," he said after a while in which he tried to make himself look more of like a human being.

"You decent?" she asked after opening the door and walking in.

"Is there any point of asking it when you´re already in here?" Patrick asked still sitting at his bed, his lips slightly quirked up.

"Probably not," she said and quieted down, unsure what to do next so she just kept staring at him silently, wondering if showing him her notebook was a good idea after all.

"You want to show me something," he stated.

"Maybe," she said after a while.

He patted the place next to him on the bed and motioned for her to sat down. "I won't bite."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, murmuring, "I like to see you try..."

He waited until she sat down, leaving a huge amount of space between them.

"So, what is it? Oh, let me guess...some sort of notes, your notes...and you want me to look through them."

Lisbon sighed. This psychic thing of his was starting to be kind of irritating, "Do you always have to know everything?"

Patrick shook his head and smiled, "Only things you tell me."

"I haven´t told you a damn thing."

"Not with your mouth you didn´t. Sorry. It´s cold reading. I can´t stop it, not even if I wanted to."

"Riiight...okay," she sighed again, "here it is," she said and handed him the small black notebook, "It contains everything I was able to deduct from case files, investigations, witness interrogations...my own thoughts, and, uh...experiences. I read it a million times, but then again, I wrote it. Maybe...maybe you´ll be able to get something else from it. New angle or something."

Patrick took it from her small cold hands, the notebook barely holding together, as he could see it had been read over and over again. The black color was almost fading into gray, pages were torn and marked here and there.

"I´ll do my best," he said and tried to give her his most sincere look.

"Thanks," she said and strode out closing the door behind her without any other word.

Patrick flipped through the notebook, finding it to be fully packed in a neat handwriting. From the beginning to the end.

Reading. That sounds nice. Finding clues. Good. He could do that. In fact, he would do anything to take his mind off of the dying soon possibility.

Soon, he was engrossed in reading so deeply, he forgot where he was.

* * *

Lisbon went back to her guarding space, Cho´s slight snoring still echoing in the room. She did love the man, in a special way. Her team meant a world to her, even though they stopped being a team six months ago. She could and would risk her own life for all of them and trusted her own life with them.

There was one thing she would never do though. She would never risk their lives, not even if they wished her to do. There was nothing to do about Cho, as she was no longer his boss and he made a choice, but Grace and Wayne? They gotten married for fucks sake, finally, after ages of longing, hoping and hiding. They have a life, a normal life, their own safe business...No way she would let them be sucked in this fucked up situation.

They could help her, sure.

They could also get killed thanks to it.

And there was no way Lisbon would let that happen.

She had learned a few tricks herself while being on the run for the last few months. There was no pay coming to her account and after taking out all of her savings, which was not much, she had to earn some extra money just to survive.

A former special agent became an occasional thief.

She never stole much, only what she needed to get by, usually money, or phones, watches, anything she could sell and earn something extra.

Cho´s burner phone was in his pocket.

Was.

She took it while fixing his blanket and he didn´t even stir.

Without even thinking about it, Lisbon walked outside and sent a text message before smashing the phone on the ground, stomping on it just to make sure it won't function anymore. She did the same with her burner phone, so there was no way left to contact Rigsby and Van Pelt, except maybe sending smoke signals.

Perhaps it was not a greatest idea, but if it will keep them safe, it was worth it.

They had to find out the identity of Red John some other way - without putting their friends into danger.

* * *

"What is your deepest desire, Brett?" Red John asked the youngest and newest addition to his team and smiled. He could clearly see there was something more to Brett, even though he tried to hide it. Despite his ignorant looks, Sheriff McAllister could see through a person in a second. And Brett Partridge was a sadist. At least.

He enjoyed the way the bruises covered poor Natalie´s face while investigating the domestic violence call, of that much he was sure.

"What do you mean, Sheriff?" the kid asked, suddenly terrified.

"Your desires, your wishes, your dreams...something you have always wanted yet have been denied through your whole life."

Brett was spooked more by the second, lost in the meaning of the conversation.

"I...I..uh, I don´t know what...-"

"Have you ever been with a woman?" Red John asked, suddenly changing topics, and smiled softly at Brett, sitting in his red themed living room.

"What? I...well, you know...I´m still young and...I´m wai-"

"Waiting for the right one?" Red John chuckled. "Sit down Brett. We need to talk."

Red John waited for the shocked young man to sit beside him before speaking. His hands were visibly trembling, so he handled him a sherry, motioning for him to take a sip.

"First, there is no such thing as the right one, my friend...no, you have to make her right first."

Brett Partridge left Red John´s residence few hours later, with an idiotic grin on his face. He walked himself home, too pumped up to took a cab.

His boss promised him something.

Something he always had craved for his whole life. And he could make it happen and...And!...he didn´t even judge him, nor hate him, laugh at him...better, he understood and had even encouraged him to be the true form of himself. At least when facing his new boss.

That´s all he wanted from him.

And Brett was ready to obey.

Happy even.

* * *

Patrick read the little black notebook in silence, astonished at Lisbon´s mind. She did a quite an impressive work, even while deducing from what happened to her. He was not sure how a person could do that, how she could detach herself from the personal experience and still try to find clues in her own suffering.

It was just...surreal, reading about what she went through - through her own eyes. A lot different than reading her case file to be honest. He read it further feeling more dreadful with every page. He was almost ready to give it up for the day when he spotted something that caught his attention.

He got up, leaving his bed and bedroom at once.

Lisbon was outside having another smoke, watching for anything and anyone, the remains of broken burner phones still at her feet when she heard the front door being opened.

"Here you are," Patrick said and it took him a millisecond to notice what she have done, "Did you just...?" he asked in surprise.

"Yeah," she said, "I had to," she said and looked into his eyes, her gaze so intense and powerful it left him speechless, but only for a second.

"That´s not important right now...listen Lisbon, I need you to be fully honest with me now, and bear in mind that I can tell whether you´re lying -"

"Then why I have to be honest with you?" she snapped back before he could finish his sentence. He remained silent for a moment before speaking, looking intensely at her.

"So I know that I can trust you."

She snorted. "Fine."

"Is there something you can´t remember from your abduction? "

Lisbon heart sank at his question. How in the hell he got to that? She never told anyone, she hardly let herself think about it. Her hands started to shake involuntarily.

"Ah, I assume your answer is yes then?" Patrick asked and sat down beside her. "Easy...breathe," he said quietly, taking the half smoked cigarette out of her shaking hands and putting it out. Lisbon nodded and bowed her head down breathing heavily.

"I don´t know what it is," she murmured. "He did something to my head. I know something is there...I just...can´t...think...about...it..." she said and suddenly tasted blood on her lips. "Shit," she groaned and her hands went to her bleeding nose.

"Oh, wait, I have a napkin here somewhere" Patrick said and started rummaging through his pockets, remembering he kept some after she almost broke his nose, "No don´t turn your head up...here you have a napkin and keep your head down, it´ll stop, eventually."

"What´s happening?" Cho asked suddenly, opening the front door quickly, "Lisbon, you okay?"

"Shyeah, jusht shpeachy..."

"Don´t speak," Patrick ordered and he could swear she rolled her eyes at him even if he couldn´t see it.

"Is that my phone?" Cho asked when his sight fell on the broken pieces on the ground.

"What´s left of it, yes," Patrick said, "and Lisbon´s there too as I presume."

Cho crossed his arms around his chest and that was his whole reaction after realizing what Lisbon did, "So, what now? Change of plan?"

"Yes, a slight one," Patrick said and started rubbing Lisbon´s back softly, surprised when she didn´t flinch at his touch at all.

* * *

Wayne walked up and down the hall with phone in his hands, looking grim. It´s been ages since Cho had called and the wait was almost unbearable.

"I´m going to call him," he said all of sudden still walking to burn the pent up energy.

"Shouldn´t we wait? He told us to wait," Grace said but then again, she was worried beyond words too. Wayne looked at his wife who was sitting at the kitchen table, nibbling on some kind of salad. She looked worried.

"But - "

Then, the phone beeped, disrupting them.

"A message," Wayne gasped as relief flooded his whole body.

"What´s it says?" Grace asked leaving the salad to itself and hurried to her husband.

 _There´s been a change of plans. We will no longer contact you. I want you to stay safe - so stay out of trouble, okay? And delete this message. Or better, destroy the phone. Do it now._

 _PS: I´m happy for both of you, you deserve it._

 _L._

"It´s Lisbon!" Grace yelped and hugged Wayne tightly.

"Yeah," Wayne said a lot less enthusiastic then his wife, "what does she mean they will no longer contact us? How are we supposed to help them?"

Grace´s happiness slowly faded. "I don´t know...but we´ll have to figure something out."

"Yeah," Wayne sighed and gave Grace a hug.

* * *

"You never told me about it," Cho said once inside, sounding only partly accusing, his arms still crossed on his chest. He looked like a father scolding a misbehaving child.

"There was no reason to," Lisbon simply stated and sat down not giving a crap about Cho´s accusing tone.

"I could have helped."

"You couldn´t," Patrick said before Lisbon could beat him to it. Both of the ex-agents looked at him a bit irritated. One thing was having an argument, the other thing was when some fake psychic mingled into it. "Oh, please, stop with the death stares and let me explain myself. Cho, you won´t be able to help Lisbon with her memory loss, not even if you tried, for I believe she was hypnotized."

Silence followed his words, silence so strong they could actually hear crickets from outside. Only thing missing was a wolf howling somewhere in the distance to add to it.

"I mean it," he said seriously when Lisbon´s lips quirked up a bit. "You said it yourself minutes ago haven´t you?"

"What?" she asked puzzled.

"He did something to your head," Cho repeated her own words. He heard her say that before when he was not so subtly listening behind the closed front door.

"No," she said. "No...I...I wouldn´t let him."

"Can you explain you memory loss then?" Patrick asked quietly.

"Um, I don´t know, maybe all the torture and fucking blood loss might have clouded my mind?!" Lisbon yelled back , her chest rising up and down. She couldn´t believe it. She won´t. The fact he hurt her body was something she could get used to, even live with I, but planting something inside her head? Something she couldn´t control?

No.

She shook her head feeling the panic rose inside of her.

"Lisbon," both Cho and Patrick said in unison.

"Leave me alone! Both of you!" she yelled and run for the bathroom. Cho was about to run after her when Jane grabbed his arm. "Don´t. Let me do it."

Cho glared at him, before sighing. "Fine, but don´t come crying back when she breaks your nose for real this time."

"I won´t," Patrick said already bracing himself for it.

* * *

Lisbon locked the door behind her and splashed cold water over her face. She felt dirty. If Jane was right, there was something in her head, in her own mind, given by the person she hated and feared the most.

If you can´t rely on your own mind, what are you left with?

Nothing.

Her whole body trembled under the realization.

She was on the verge of a panic attack, something that hadn´t happened to her in weeks, when Patrick picked the lock and opened the bathroom door. He closed them right after and stood still, watching Lisbon leaning over the sink.

"Leave, just leave," she said breathing heavily.

"Hear me out first."

"No, screw you, Jane...screw it all."

"He couldn´t plant anything inside your head that would go against your character, that´s how hypnosis, or suggestion, works."

Lisbon listened to him, the water still running. "How can you be so sure?"

"I am not just sure Lisbon, I know it. And I can prove it to you."

"How?" she asked turning to face him, her face pale and wet from the cold shower she gave it.

"I can hypnotize you and reveal what he had hidden."

Lisbon stared at him. He was looking at her back, his face so full of confidence and something else, something she couldn´t quite decipher. Compassion maybe?

"I believe it´s a key for learning his true identity."

* * *

"How did you find out, anyway?" Lisbon asked Patrick while the three of them sat in dim lit living room, another round of chamomile tea placed on the table.

"You wrote about it," he stated calmly while sipping on his tea.

Cho was flickering through the black notebook, something he had no idea existed. Lisbon had it since Bosco and Mandy were murdered, apparently. And she kept it hidden, even from her own team.

"I didn´t...where?"

"Almost at the end, Cho, may I?"

Cho took his eyes of the notebook and handed it to him. "Sure."

Rather than reading it out loud, he found the page which made him think and handed it to her, "Here, you...uh, you don´t seem to remember when Red John left, yet you were quite aware when your rescuers arrived." There seem to be a gap, a very important gap."

Cho nodded. Lisbon was quite wide awake when he and the team found her - or better, when they followed the address somebody send to the headquarters. He remembers thinking it was just a wild goose chase until they arrived at the location and found Lisbon strapped down, covered in blood. Just thinking about it filled him with anger, yet, he didn´t show it. They never found the source of the message.

"What does that mean?" Cho asked when Lisbon remained silent.

"Well, anything that happened is still in Lisbon´s subconscious, hidden, even from her. I can try and uncover it, but..."

"But?" She asked.

"You will have to relive it once again. And trust me, it´s a lot different than nightmares you´re having. It would feel as if it´s real. It won´t be easy."

Silence fell over them once more, all three of them thinking about what had to be done. Lisbon felt torn apart. Part of her was already hooting for the hypnosis while the other part, more sensible one, didn´t want to ever go through it ever again. Plus, it meant Jane would be inside her head. While Cho watches. It would be a public display of something so tried to keep to herself so hard.

But then again, what if there is really something? What if Red John did something, said something...that would help them to catch him?

Isn´t that what she wants more than anything?

If ending him means she had to go through it all again, she had to do it.

She owns it to Sam and Mandy.

To Cho and the team.

And to herself.

"Let´s do it," she said and sipped on the nerve calming chamomile tea.

* * *

She was sitting on the couch alone, too pumped up to notice Jane´ stare. Cho was guarding outside after Patrick suggested that a little more privacy might help her relax. Except it did nothing. Her leg was twitching violently up and down and Patrick knew this needed a different approach. Waiting for her to calm down would took too much time - years probably. Just as to earn her trust. And they simply didn´t have it.

"It´s no use," she heard him say all of sudden.

"What?" she asked, half annoyed, half relieved.

"It´s no use, you are too pumped up, I am not going to hypnotize you now," he said and sat down in front of her, to maintain eye contact.

"What? I´m fine, just do it...let´s just get over it," she rambled while her leg still twitched like crazy.

"Oh, no. I need you to relax first Lisbon, as you are not falling into deep relaxing trance state. Just keep breathing slowly in and out, like a wave slowly crashing onto a shore. Deep breath in, deep breath out, calmly, slowly, like the wave," Patrick´s gaze was locked onto her dropping eyelids as her breathing became slow and steady and her leg stopped twitching. "One more time Lisbon...good...now, sleep."

She closed her eyes fully and Patrick lowered her onto the couch giving her shoulder a light squeeze. He left her for a brief moment to retrieve Cho and they both went back, worry filling them.

"Ready?" Patrick asked Cho and he nodded.

"Yeah. Just make it quick."

Patrick sat down so he could be near to her and braced himself for what was coming.

"Lisbon, can you hear me?"

She nodded and said "Yes," slowly.

"Okay. Good. You are safe. There is nothing that can hurt you know. You will wake up when I touch your left shoulder. Do you understand?"

Another nod.

"Good. I need you to go back to your abduction."

A shiver run through her body followed by a small nod.

"Good. As I said before, nobody and nothing will hurt you. You are safe here. You are able to see everything that happened to you, yet, it will not harm you."

"Kay," she whispered.

"Good. I need you to go back to the last day of your abduction - to the day you were rescued. Can you do that?"

Lisbon´s lower lip trembled. "Yes."

"Good. Tell me what you see. Everything."

"I am strapped down on the metal bed. I´m cold. And thirsty...so thirsty. My whole body hurts...badly. I´m going to die..." she whimpered.

"No, you are not going to die. Nothing can harm you now, you´re safe. You are able to fast forward everything, until Red John arrives...do it."

"No...I can´t."

"You can. You have to. I´m here with you, nobody will hurt you, not even him."

"Okay," she whimpered again and inhaled a sharp breath, "He´s here..."

"What is he doing?"

* * *

"Hello again, Teresa," a silent voice came to her. She was on the verge of fainting. The thirst was going to kill her soon. Her mouth was so parched, her lips cracked open and she felt blood on her tongue.

"I came here to say goodbye, you know? It pains me to do it but I couldn´t made you right. At least not for now."

Lisbon shivered when a hand landed on her naked thigh on went up her body until it reached her neck.

"You will succumb to me. I will wait for you, my friend and then...we will finally be together. Ah, you´re bleeding," he said and chuckled at his own twisted sense of humor. "Close your eyes!" he commanded all of sudden, the honey in his voice gone. When she didn´t do as he told, he grabbed her neck tightly, making it almost unable for her to breathe. She closed her eyes finally, unable to resist him any longer. The pressure on her neck loosened but not entirely.

"Keep them close if you want to live," she could hear him say and suddenly felt his lips being pressed against hers. He was kissing her. Every cell in her body screamed against it. Even she tried to scream but it only made it easier for him to fully invade her mouth. His hand was still tightly pressed on her neck and it started to hurt. She couldn´t move and he wouldn´t stop. She couldn´t take it anymore. She opened her eyes only to see his own staring back at her.

He was not wearing a mask.

He stopped kissing her immediately and hit her face hard with his free hand.

"You stupid bitch!" he yelled in anger. When she looked at him again, not giving a damn about the pain, his mask was back on.

" What did you do? Now I have to kill you!"

Another hit to her head knocked her off.

* * *

"Lisbon, wake up!" Patrick raised his voice when her thrashing became unbearable to watch. Cho was leaning over, worry filling his usually stoic face. Patrick squeezed her left shoulder tightly and her eyes opened, tears escaping them.

"He kissed me," she groaned..."that bastard kissed me..."she said again before she hurled what was chamomile tea minutes ago onto Janes lap.

Cho had to admire his calmness. That man didn´t even stir, his eyes still locked on heavily trembling Lisbon.

"Did he do anything else?" Patrick asked and lowered her down onto the couch, careful not to touch her too much.

"He...god...he took off his mask...I saw him."

"I saw his face."

* * *

Well, let me know what you think about this chapter, if you feel like it :) Anyway I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Red John felt enraged. He walked around in circles, in his own living room, as the idiotic, fat, money driven agent talked about how Patrick Jane hypnotized him to quit smoking, and how amazingly it worked. He made it sound so...so...interesting. Making somebody quit smoking?

What a ridiculous waste of such a rare ability. Who cares if some fat idiot saves his lungs or prolongs his life? If he wants to die, let him die. Hypnotism serves a higher purpose - at least where Red John was concerned. He had to do a lot of work on Teresa after she acted so senseless during their last encounter. It almost made him kill her right there on that table. Yet...he couldn´t do it. Rather than finishing her off, he did something else. He played with her mind. Hard.

However...

Patrick Jane having the ability to hypnotize makes this situation more dire than he actually thought so. It means he is not just some fake psychic conning off idiots...there is a chance he is much more.

And that´s a problem.

His own face was hiding in Teresa´s subconscious. Yes, he set some traps to prevent it escaping...were they strong enough?

Red John stopped walking and pulled out his phone.

"Anything?" he asked as the person on other line answered, voice filled with impatience.

 _"No master, but we still have some areas to cover."_

"Employ more men, split the search area. We have to find them fast. Don´t fail me."

 _"I would rather die than fail you, master."_

"And you will do just that if you´re unable to find them in twenty-four hours."

 _"Yes, master."_

Red John hung up and sat down at his favorite chair.

How much she is willing to endure? He guarded his own image with painful defensive mechanism. Headache is just an understatement. Just a simple glimpse of his face could made her faint with pain. Yes, it seems now that he should´ve done more...

And he would, knowing that Teresa would team up with another mind manipulator.

Fast, that´s the keyword. They have to find them fast.

* * *

"Stay still...breathe," Jane ordered her while Cho went to fetch some water. She felt bad, really bad. Her head felt like somebody was trying to crack it open every time she tried to recall that face. She groaned, fighting the urge to throw up again.

"Don´t overdo it, rest for a while, there´s no use in torturing yourself."

She didn´t stop though, trying to squeeze every little bit of the freshly acquired memory. It hurt like hell, yet she couldn´t stop. This was the first real mistake the bastard made and she wouldn´t let it slip because of a headache. She kept her eyes shut, focusing on the memory hard, seeing cold blue eyes staring back at her. Her head almost exploded from the pain and she grabbed the edge of the couch so strongly her knuckled turned white.

She groaned through gritted teeth, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead.

"Lisbon, stop it. Now," Patrick said firmly.

She groaned again, this time more in irritation than in pain. "I can´t stop. I saw him...I have to remember..."

Patrick stood up and grabbed her shoulders softly. She opened her eyes ready to punch him, yet too weak to do so. "What the fuck are you doing?" she asked instead.

"Stopping you from hurting yourself," he replied in a harsh tone.

She glared at him angrily and he returned her gaze in the same manner. He just don´t understand, she thought. None of the two of them does.

Cho came back, carrying two glasses of water and some fluffy towel he must´ve taken from the bathroom. It was slightly wet and purple. "Don´t you want to change?" he asked Patrick, who almost forget what Lisbon did to his lap.

"Oh. Yeah sure, I´ll be in a minute...and you," he said and pointed his finger at Lisbon, "Rest, drink some water and for a minute, just a minute, stop acting like a goddamn terminator, will you?" With that he strode into his bedroom.

"Wow," Lisbon said, amused a little and Cho chuckled. "Here," he said and handed her a glass of water.

"Thanks Cho...what´s the towel for?" she asked and gulped down whole glass of water.

"This," he replied and placed it on her forehead. First, she wanted to protest, but then the coldness soothed her headache into a bearable amount and she enjoyed it so much a sigh escaped her lips. "Thanks."

Cho nodded, watching his ex-boss closely. "Lisbon," he said when her face twisted in pain all of sudden. "Lisbon, " he repeated urgently and knelt beside her. She remained quiet, breathing hard for a while.

"Lis -"

"Hush," she managed to murmur through gritted teeth ,"I´m...fine..."

Cho became silent and her mind was finally able to go back in time probing the man´s face through her memory. The pain was like...nothing she ever felt before. It was paralyzing, excruciating, unbearable...

All she wanted to do was make it stop. Yet the senseless part of her, the one which was born on the certain day six months ago, wouldn´t let her do it. Perhaps the old saying was right, what doesn´t kill you, only makes you stronger...or perhaps succeed in killing you on second try.

She felt like it...dying.

Never mind, she thought to herself. Concentrate Lisbon, you can do it.

Or you can´t.

Either way you have to try.

She concentrated solemnly on his face, feeling her whole body tremble. That´s not important, she thought to herself. Not now anyway.

Her breath hitched. The image was just inches out of her reach - it kept blurring, fading, and each time she tried to grasp it, a searing bolt of pain almost made her stop. Almost.

She didn´t knew how much more could her body endure. Probably not much. The mind was giving up slowly, too. One last time, she thought to herself for the tenth time...one last...time...And then again, and again.

Until it happened.

Her head finally cracked open, or it at least felt like it,, and the face became focused. She remembered. She even knew him. His identity was no longer a mystery.

"...McAllister..."she gasped in surprise and the world became black.

* * *

Patrick strode into his bedroom and shed his soaked clothes. He let them where they fell, pretty much sure of never wanting to wear them ever again. He kept some of his old, less expensive suits and shirts in this place too, in case he will need them someday. As a consequence he did. He got dressed, feeling a bit proud about the fact the suit still fit him. He was just about the leave the room when the cries started.

He run out of the bedroom, making his way into living room where Lisbon thrashed on the couch. Her face was still twisted in pain when he pushed Cho out of his place and knelt down on his spot beside her. Truth to be told, he never experienced anything like this before and the only thing that came to his mind was automatic, his actions lead by an autopilot.

She was in pain.

He had to relieve it.

Thanks to his father, he learned how to con people. Thanks to his mother, he learned how to help them. Unfortunately, she died when he was just a boy and so the ways of his father prevailed.

Although, all memories of his mother were stored safely in his memory palace, alongside with every little thing she ever taught him. He took Lisbon´s trembling hand into his, locating one of the pressure points used for pain relieving.

He massaged her hands gently, knowing precisely where to put pressure. His hands left hers when the tremble became on occasional shiver and he moved to her head - massaging her temples soothingly. Soon, even the shiver stopped and all that left was Lisbon, lying on the couch, pale as ever, yet she kept her eyes closed.

"McAllister," she whispered again quietly clutching at the couch again.

"Stop it," he said calmly and grabbed her hand gently. She grasped it tightly, so tightly it hurt a little.

"You already gave us the name Lisbon, you can stop now," he continued with the same calming voice. Seconds later her eyes fluttered open, tears running down her cheeks.

"It was him," she whispered, "I saw him...I know him..." she said and laughed hysterically, "I know who he is!"

* * *

Lisbon sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in her shaking hands. Someone put a blanket over her shoulders as her shivering just wouldn´t stop. She was sure the headache gave her a fever.

"You sure about it boss?" Cho asked, sitting right in front of her.

"Yeah...and I´m not your boss Cho."

"A small town Sheriff?" Patrick asked after Cho told him who Thomas McAllister is, "Are you absolutely sure, Lisbon?"

"Yes I am," she replied with great effort. There was just no power left to be angry, all she could muster under these circumstances was mild desperation.

"Okay, I believe you," Patrick said sensing her mood and backed out.

"I don´t care if you believe me. I know what I saw," she said silently, "or whom I saw."

There was silence for a while. Such a silence only the uncovering a crazy maniac´s identity could make. Lisbon sighed.

"How do you know him?" Patrick asked all of sudden.

Lisbon looked at Cho, begging him silently to tell the story of how they met. She just couldn´t talk about him without the headache returning. Even thinking hurt. She listened to Cho talking about the murder cases her team helped to solve, feeling worse by the second. Why does it mattered anymore? What else did she needed then the name of the bastard? A plan? She had her own plan and the only piece missing was his identity. Suddenly, a rush of panic run through her body. "Uh, I need a smoke," she said all of sudden and fought the urge to run out, walking slowly instead.

She unlocked the front door and stepped outside, inhaling the cold breeze. Her heart pounded fast, finally knowing the true identity of Red John. She searched her pocket for spare car keys as Jane had the original ones. The glock she used in his residence was now in Cho´s possession, yet she had another gun and ammo hidden in her car. She braced herself for what was about to come, shedding the blanket from her shoulders and went into the garage, picking the lock with ease. Jane was not the only one with rare talents.

Her Mustang was parked side by side with Cho SUV and she was kind of happy that Jane had such an enormous garage. She unlocked her beloved car and started the engine. It rambled instantly and she knew Cho and Jane could hear it.

Hell, they probably already know what´s going on.

She changed gears and put the pedal down, escaping the garage fast, just in time to see both of men running outside, yelling something she couldn´t hear. She couldn´t bear to look at them. This was something she had to do on her own. And if it means she will die while doing it...well, at least everybody else would be safe. As far as she was concerned, that was worth dying for.

* * *

Just as Lisbon thought, the two men occupying the kitchen heard her engine being started. Both were on their feet seconds later, running outside. Patrick was the first to see what´s happening, he saw the black Mustang driving away, so he run after her, yelling. "Stop! Lisbon, stop, no...!," waving his hands in the process.

Cho didn´t waste time with yelling, he run into the garage instead, unlocking his own Jeep and sat in. Another strong engine rumbled through the air and soon, Jane appeared at the passenger's side, jumping in. In silence Cho made his way through the forest rather fast. He got a bit of a advantage against Lisbon muscle car - the terrain. Yet, she was far away ahead of them.

Not for long though. The little black dot became bigger second by second, the road just too bumpy for such a car to go fast. Cho stepped on it so more and drove on.

Lisbon watched the rear view mirror in horror. They were gaining on her. Of course they were. As much as she loved her car, it was no match for Cho´s Jeep in such a terrain. She swore almost the whole ride, every time she hit a rock or a ditch.

"Fucking piece of shit road, when will it end?" She had no idea, being passed out while Jane drove them here. Looking into the rear view mirror one more time, Lisbon saw something else than just Cho´s Jeep pursuing her.

There was another car behind them.

"Shit!" she swore and turned around.

* * *

Red John led young Brett into his personal chambers, buried deep under his mansion. The young man´s eyes were full of wonder and curiosity and to Red John´s delight, fear. He enjoyed the firsts of his beloved followers, those firsts which marked them for lifetime.

Why should be a person ashamed of who he or she is?

Why should he be punished for his or her desires?

He himself was punished, a million times, before he finally shone. And since then, no one was able to do that to him, not anymore. And no one ever will.

Brett...such a promising young man. Sure, his obscurities, or let´s call them, skills, were a bit different from his own, yet he could understand the passion behind his desires.

"Brett," Red John spoke, stopping the man in instance.

"Yes, Sir?"

"We´re here," Red John said sweetly. He knocked on a door to his left and a soft, "come in," came as a response. Red John opened the door and Brett followed him eagerly.

No one should be ashamed of himself, that´s something Brett is going to learn today.

His eyes lighting up like Christmas lights.

"Brett, this is my good friend Lorelei and those lovely ladies over there would be yours good friends, very soon. Lorelei here will lay the ground rules for you, my friend, for I have a matter of high priority to attend. If there is anything you need, just speak to Lorelei." The woman named Lorelei nodded and smiled at Brett, taking his hand in hers, "Don´t worry Brett, I´ll take good care of you."

Red John watched Brett swallowing hard in delight before saying his good bye, leaving the young man to fulfill his wildest desires.

He let the young man alone with Lorelei whom he trusted and went up when his phone buzzed. He picked it up immediately.

"Yes?"

 _"We found them, my master."_

"I want them alive," he said sternly, "understood?"

 _"Yes master."_

Red John hung up, feeling delightful.

Soon, Teresa, he thought, I shall see you very soon.

He had to get ready.

* * *

Cho´s drive was soon stopped when a someone in the car behind them blew his tire and he lost control of the Jeep. It surprised him as much as it angered him. He tried to steer it for few seconds, before the mighty Jeep fell down a rather deep hillside, rolling over in the process for several times. When the rolling finally stopped and the Jeep landed down on its four wheels, Cho unbuckled his seat belt, glancing at Jane.

He was obviously unconscious, a stream of blood running down his face.

"Jane," he said, breathing hard, "Jane!"

Nothing.

"Fuck," he muttered and tried to open his door, falling on his own four after managing it. His head spun bad, his gun was still in the car and the smell of gasoline filled his senses. "Jane," he whispered, and stood up, ready to try to get the unconscious man out of the car before it likely blew up. Another gunshot was fired and Cho was forced to jump away from the line of fire.

* * *

"Idiot! He wants them alive!" One of Red John moles yelled at the other one.

"Only the woman and psychic. He hadn´t said a word about an Asian man," the man replied and aimed at place where Cho jumped, firing another bullet.

"Still, stop shooting! I didn´t saw any woman in that car!"he yelled some more, when another gunshot fired through the air.

"She´s there," the first one said, "probably unconscious after the rolling ,so, be a pal and help me shoot the Asian so we can gather them before the Jeep blow up, will ya?"

"Shouldn´t we wait for the others?"

"And let them have the glory of capturing them? I don´t think so..."

* * *

Lisbon crept behind trees trying very hard not to be seen or heard. She could see the two fuckers standing on the hill, looking down the hillside, one of them already pointing gun down there. She took her own gun and aimed, not leaving those two a chance to pull their triggers. Two shots ranged through the air and two bodies hit the ground afterwards. Lisbon put the gun back into her holster, and hurried to the hillside where smoke was starting to rise. She jumped in, half running, half falling down to the Jeep, smoke already raising from it. She was almost there when Cho jumped out of nowhere and tackled her down.

"No! It´ll blow up!"

"Where´s Jane?" Lisbon yelled, hitting the ground, Cho falling on top of her. "Where is he?" she asked and followed Cho´s stare at the SUV, "No! Let go off me Cho!" she yelled.

"No! You´ll die!"

"Let go!" she yelled again and kicked hard, hitting him right into stomach. He gasped, unable to breathe for a while and Lisbon slipped out of his hands. Dizzy and scared she got up, and walked to the almost burning car. She grabbed the passenger side door and opened them, letting another cloud of grayish smoke out.

"Jane!" she coughed, "Patrick!"

He was out, not responding, and his seat belt was still on as she tried to unbuckle it with her shaking hands. Finally, she managed to do that and she grasped his torso into her strong yet small hands, pulling him out of the hot Jeep. She kept on pulling him away despite being weary and weak from...well, from everything, yet she couldn´t stop until she reached the place where Cho groaned in pain.

"He´s not breathing," she muttered silently after checking his pulse. She was trained in giving the first aid, done it a heap of times, yet her hand trembled when she ripped his shirt and prepared them for the heart massage.

"Breathe," she said desperately, each time she pressed his chest up on down, counting to thirty before giving him the kiss of life. She repeated the process two times, her hands already weakened, losing the grip. Her eyes were full of tears when Jane finally coughed and shuddered.

"Jane, can you hear me?" she asked and he coughed some more as an answer.

"Lisbon?" he asked dizzily opening his eyes and Lisbon noticed the graze on his forehead. It was not severe, still it must´ve hurt, "You came back," he said hoarsely, yet softly and Lisbon just nodded, too pumped up to notice his soft tone. "Yeah, better not make me regret it, now keep calm and stay still" she said glancing at Cho, who was still catching his breath, "Sorry Cho, I had to do it, "she said, emitting only a small nod out of him, "Can you stand up?" she asked.

"Yeah," he croaked and Lisbon lend him a hand, "We should leave, I´ll bet there will be more of them soon."

Cho nodded and got up.

"I feel kind of dizzy," Patrick muttered while Lisbon and Cho helped him back on his own feet. The graze on his forehead was still bleeding, the Jeep was still producing smoke , and the trio hurried up to hill, to be a bit safe in Lisbon´s Mustang.

Seconds later, the Jeep decided that blowing up is unavoidable and as it did, the force pushed them even further, almost knocking them off their feet. Lisbon gripped stumbling Jane harder and carried on, just as Cho did.

* * *

Red John stood in his chamber, as a man knelt before him.

He felt anger. Only burning red anger.

"You let them escape?"

The man seemed so small when he tried to spoke.

"We sent two agents to retrieve them. Found them dead...both were shot."

"I see. And you were doing what while the two were being shot?"

The man shuddered.

"Searching the cabin, but hear me out master! They had their orders...but they´ve must acted on their own, I...I apologize for this mistake, and I will make sure nothing like that would happen again. But...we found this." The man took a small blackish notebook out of his pocket and handed it to unfazed looking Red John. He eyed the man suspiciously, yet intrigued, and took it out of his trembling hands, flipping the pages in the process.

"Interesting," he said, his eyes locked on pages of an old notebook. He smacked his lips and looked right into the man´s eyes.

"Gather everything that was left in the cabin, and when I say everything I mean it! Take care of the bodies and the burned SUV. Continue the search. I don´t want a soul knowing about this incident, are we clear?" he barked, letting a smidgen of anger for the man to see. It was usually enough.

"Yes, Master," the man replied silently and obediently.

"Do it now."

"it will be my honor. I shall not fail you again!" he vowed.

Red John sighed after the man left, feeling bit out of sorts. Is it him, or everybody else has lost their minds? By this time, he should´ve been reconnected with Teresa Lisbon, and yet...she escaped again. It made him feel...desperate. And that was something he vowed never to feel again.

Only she could make him feel emotions that were long dead to him.

In a way, he hated it.

In other way, it enthralled him.

He have to get her back.

Red John sat down and flipped through the black notebook, loosing himself in the thoughts of the peculiar agent Teresa Lisbon.

* * *

Somehow, they managed to climb up the hillside, with Patrick Jane in between them, still in a bit of a shock. Lisbon took her keys and gave them to Cho and this time, the thought of somebody else driving was the last thing on her mind.

To leave, quickly, that was on her mind.

Lisbon helped Jane into the car and followed him into the backseat, Cho already starting the engine. Seconds later, they fled - having no clue where to go.

"We´re low on gas," Cho said casually and Lisbon sighed.

"Okay," was all she could say. Jane had lied down and rested his head on her lap. His breathing was still ragged and he kept his eyes closed. Without an occasional cough, he remained silent.

"Hey," Lisbon said quietly, "you all right?"

"Right as rain," he muttered as his hand went to his forehead.

"Don´t touch it, you´ll get an infection."

"Oh, I truly hope not, that might be dangerous," he replied and opened his eyes, "not as dangerous as going after a serial killer alone, leaving two helpers behind, yet...pretty darn risky -"

"You don´t understand," Lisbon replied slowly, not wanting to get into that conversation. Not now, and probably not ever.

"Explain then," Cho said, to their surprise.

Lisbon sighed. All she wanted was to keep them safe and they nearly died. "I know who he is, there is no need to get you involved any further."

"And what is your plan exactly?" Patrick asked looking into those green eyes, already knowing the answer, "To kill him? And then what?"

"Who cares what then?" she replied tiredly, "He will be stopped. That´s all I care about."

"I care," Cho said, "Van Pelt and Rigsby cares, your family cares -"

"Oh, stop being such a melodramatics, both of you. We are not a bunch of five year olds!"

Cho stopped the car suddenly and it made both Lisbon and Jane jerk forward, "I am not melodramatic, but the Lisbon I know would never consider murdering someone out of revenge. Are you still that person?" He asked and gave her the Cho stare treatment.

Lisbon´s breath hitched, before she slowly said a quiet "Yeah," and closed her eyes, "I still am...but what other options am I left with? If -"

"We´ll catch him," Patrick said calmly.

"Yeah," Cho added.

Lisbon stared at them in disbelief, amazed by their optimism, "Just like that?" she asked, "because catching him is such a piece of cake?"

"We´ll set a trap, obviously."

"A trap?"

"Yes. And since you already have these self-destructing tendencies," Patrick continued to speak, resting his head on Lisbon´s lap as she glared at him, "I say let´s use them constructively."

"What do you mean?" Cho asked.

"Well, as much as I hate to suggest it, we can use Lisbon as a bait. He is already after us, as we could clearly see...all we have to do is lure him into our own elaborate plan."

"Sounds dangerous," Cho said.

"I don´t care," she replied.

"Shocking, Patrick replied, rolling his eyes at her, "although, first things first, there are few things we will need, starting with gasoline.

"Okay," Cho said, "leave that to me."

"And I need the proof that you will stay, Lisbon. That is the most important thing now. Do I...eh,do we have your word?"

Lisbon sighed. There was no winning with these two.

"Okay. Fine. I give up. I tried...God knows I did."

"Sure you did. Now you now there´s no point in that, right Cho?"

"Yeah. Do we have any cash?" He asked and they drove into the night.

* * *

Well, I don´t really know how am I doing so far, but anyway, as always, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter :) Huge thanks to anyone leaving a review, I appreciate that :)


	6. Boss around

Lisbon sighed silently. She gave Cho most of her cash which she´s been safely stashing for months. Sitting on the back seat in her own car made her feel like she was losing control. Which probably she was. Jane, still resting his head on her lap, was probably asleep. He found her hand with his and grabbed it gently. She let him.

Why did she let him?

Soon, he was squeezing it tightly and after a moment, Lisbon tried to wiggle it out of his grip. He groaned in protest and mumbled something about not wanting to get out of bed yet. For a unknown reason, it made her smile and she let him have much needed rest. Still, it felt...weird.

Weird and dangerous and kind of enthralling. Not really a thing she needed right now.

"Gas station ahead of us," Cho stated. They were already running on fumes and she wondered how much far they could drive in this condition.

"Okay, I know the drill," she said and lowered her head down. She hoped nobody will recognize the car and call the cops.

"Good, I´ll be quick, "Cho said, turning the blinker on, and pulled into the modest gas station, hoping that his face had not reached the news yet. Still, he wore a cap and glasses, just to be sure.

"You want anything?"

Lisbon gave it a thought. "Coffee?" she offered and chuckled.

"I´ll see what I can do," Cho said and Lisbon rolled her eyes. "No need Cho, I was just kidding. I´m all right."

"Okay," he stated and left the vehicle, leaving Lisbon and Jane alone. It was dark outside already, the only light coming from the station lamps. After a while, impatient Lisbon dared to take a quick peek through the window and saw Cho paying the cashier already, holding a cup of probably coffee in his hands. She shook her head in disbelief at the man. Seconds later, he came back, carrying the cup alongside with a full paper bag. Lisbon stayed hidden until he put the things down, placing the steaming cup of coffee into a cup holder.

"I´ve got a burner phone and some other stuff," he stated stoically, "and here´s your coffee," he added leaving the gas station behind. Lisbon straightened herself and took the offered cup. "Thank you, Cho."

"Sure thing."

"Destination?" he asked after a while although Lisbon had no idea. "Nappa Valley?" she ventured.

"Not yet," Jane said all of sudden successfully scaring the crap out of her. So he was not sleeping at all. He was lucky she didn´t spill the hot coffee all over him. "Jerk..." she muttered under her breath.

"We don´t want him knowing that we know his true identity, now do we? We have to keep him in a loop. That is when he makes mistakes and that´s exactly what we want him to do. "

Lisbon sipped on the coffee and sighed. "What is your plan then?"

"As much as you might hate it, we need help. Perhaps we could call your former colleagues with the burner phone Cho provided and -"

"No," she said sternly.

"I agree with Jane. They can help us," Cho added, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of him.

"And get themselves killed," Lisbon said tiredly. There was no point in denying what she felt. "Don´t you two understand that I can´t live with that? I can´t. I simply can´t. There is enough blood on my hands already. I feel bad enough already for dragging you two into it," she continued, her voice just a silent whisper. She wasn´t sure if they could hear her through the engine rumbling but hoped they couldn´t.

"You didn´t drag me anywhere," Cho said, "I came out of my own initiative. I want to catch that bastard as much as you do and so does Rigsby and Van Pelt."

"You can´t simply fight him alone, Lisbon," Patrick added, knowing that the maniac has probably more resources then they could even imagine. An extra help would be much appreciated. They needed information, and a lot of it, before he could set a trap - A trap that might result in their deaths. For the first time in ages, he was actually worried about someone else besides himself. Just the thought of Lisbon being a bait made his stomach curl.

And it shouldn´t.

All he should be caring about was his own well-being and yet it was the last thing on his mind. His hand was still holding hers and he dared to look into her eyes. They were full of anguish and misery and maybe a spark of hope - just a tiny bit of it.

"Let me think about it," she said silently after a while.

* * *

Rigsby was awoken by a beeping phone, while his wife slept like a log beside him. Her hand was curled on his chest, the other one resting protectively around her belly. They finally find the reason of her moodiness, tiredness and weird cravings. Grace was pregnant. He was going to be a father. It felt amazing, he never felt like this before and couldn´t have imagined to. It was an absolutely new feeling and he loved every bit of it. A smile appeared on his face while he reached for the phone soundlessly.

"Another change of plans. We need your help. It might result in you being in grave danger. Are you up to it? Ch."

"Grace! Grace wake up!"

"Huh?" she murmured groggily after being woken up so abruptly, rubbing at her eyes. "What´s happening?"

"It´s Cho!" He said and held out the phone.

"What? Let me see!" she yipped and took the phone out of his hands. "Of course we are up to it, what kind of question is that?" and Wayne sighed shifting uncomfortably. Yesterday, he would be thrilled to help them in any way possible but with the baby on his mind, somehow, he was slowly losing the courage bit by bit. "Are you sure? I mean...with the pregnancy... -"

"What about it?" Grace asked a bit harshly.

"What about it? I´m worried Grace. The man is a maniac, you saw what happened to Boss..."

Grace frowned. "Yeah, Wayne I did. That´s why I want to help...don´t you?"

"Of course I do, it´s just...I think we should consider the danger before we jump into something like this, don´t you think? I mean we have no idea what we are getting into - "

"All I know is that I don´t want my child to live in a world where this...monster roams free," Grace said with a determined look on her face, "Until he´s caught, we are not safe. You know that, right?"

Wayne nodded, "Right, good, okay. You´re right."

* * *

"They´re up to it," Cho stated calmly and took a small bite of his sandwich. After driving for about an hour trying to find a safe spot for the night, far away from the main road and finally parking the car under an giant oak tree in the middle of nowhere.

Lisbon who´s been tending to Jane´s graze on his forehead closed her eyes briefly and put a plaster on in with a sigh. Of course they are up to it - they can´t deny who they are... Still, she would feel a lot better if this whole thing was just up to her. Jane looked at her but she avoided his gaze and got up. "This should do it, you´re all set."

"Thank you, Lisbon..." he called after her but she was already lost in the darkness.

"Where did she go?" Cho asked showing no sign of suspicion or curiosity and Patrick wondered if the man was always like this. Watching him chew the gas station sandwich calmly despite their situation made him realize that probably Cho was simply born this way.

"Either she is smoking or sulking - probably both," Patrick said and lied down on the grass, staring at the dark abyss above him.

"I should talk to her," Cho said with his mouth half full.

"Perhaps."

"But there´s no point in it, is there?"

Patrick sighed, "Most likely not."

Lisbon lighted up her second cigarette, cursing herself for not telling Cho to buy her a pack. She only had two left...yeah, it was not the greatest habit of them all, and she spent half her childhood trying to make her brothers quit smoking, but in these past couple of months it gave her some sense of control in her life. Maybe it was false sense of control that wasn´t beneficial to her health at all, and yet...she savored the calm minutes of doing just this - not thinking, not worrying, just...smoking. Staring in front of her but not seeing a damn thing.

She rarely cried. It had to be something super upsetting to make her go all weepy and wet from the tears. But now, facing the possibility of putting her friends into danger...there was nothing more terrifying than that. The death of Sam and Mandy was still fresh in her mind - almost every damn night she could see their mangled bodies under that red smiling face.

She shouldn´t cave, not now, not ever. "Shit...," she muttered and kicked the dirt around her in annoyance.

"You okay Boss?" Cho asked, appearing out of nowhere making her jump a little in surprise.

"Jesus, Cho...you scared me!"

"Sorry Boss," he simply stated.

"And could you stop calling me your boss? It´s not true anymore...It´s weird."

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"Jane thinks I should talk to you," he said and stood by her side, staring into the darkness too.

"Does he?"

"Yes."

"What do you think?" she asked genuinely curious.

Cho remained silent for a while, just standing by her side. "I think I should give you these," he said and handed her a pack of cigarettes. It was not her brand but still, she smiled a little.

"Thanks Cho."

"No problem," Cho said but remained silent.

"Good talk," Lisbon said and chuckled sincerely for the first time in ages.

"As always," Cho said and his lips quirked up a bit, "We´ll get him, Lisbon," he added after a while, with his calm and somewhat convincing voice. Lisbon scoffed at first but nodded afterwards. She had to believe it now, doesn´t she? Maybe acting like there´s no other option than that will help them. Maybe.

"Yeah...let´s go back to the car," Lisbon half sighed the sentence out.

"Okay," Cho responded and that was the end of their conversation.

* * *

Patrick sat on the ground, his back leaning on Lisbon´s Mustang. Despite the dizziness and slight nausea he felt kind of good. Maybe it were those off the table pain killers that Lisbon gave him. He was supposed to be sleeping. Cho sure was. He could hear him snoring.

Lisbon was up. And in pain. She kept glancing at her hand from time to time, frowning. It´s been some time since she let them look at her graze.

"We should take a look at it," he said quietly.

"You should be sleeping," she replied quickly.

"Can´t. Never been much of a sleeper, anyway," he said and got up slowly, fighting the dizziness until a small hand grabbed his and helped him up. "Dizzy?"

"A tad. You are in pain."

"Am not,"

"Liar."

"Jerk."

They stood in silence for a while, looking into each other eyes.

"Why are we fighting all the time?" she asked tiredly and Jane smiled.

"Simple. You are a control freak who´s losing control of the situation. You ability to receive any kind of help was shattered long time ago and your graze hurts. But the most annoying thing is that you know I am right and there´s nothing you could do about it leaving out the one and only possibility - to listen to me."

"Or you´re really just a jerk."

"That´s a possibility too, I guess. Still, we should take a look at your hand. You´re cranky when you´re healthy. I would really like to avoid the sick persona of yours."

"You know what? This is exactly what I´m talking about...,"

Patrick only rolled his eyes on her. "Just roll up your sleeve and then I´ll leave you alone. I promise."

Lisbon glared at him angrily but did as he told her at last. She was not sure why since usually no other person - a person she hardly knew - would have such an effect on her. Why this Patrick Jane did she had no clue. Maybe it´s just the responsibility she feels towards him. She let him investigate the wound knowing pretty well he won´t be able to see a damn thing in this darkness. To be fair, the wound hurt a little. Okay, a lot, but that was normal. And she was sure it´s nothing. Almost sure.

"Ah, I simply can´t see anything," he said and hummed. "Don´t mind me," he added and all of sudden she could feel his hot breath on her skin.

"What the hell are you doing...?" she asked realizing the weird noises Jane was making were sniffing noises.

"Trying to determine if there´s any infection."

"By sniffing me?" She replied in false calmness which somehow sounded way more dangerous that her angry voice.

"Yes. And before you administrate the punch you´ve been planning, I should tell you that infection equals pus and,...well, pus equal bad smell. Luckily for you there is none. On contrary your body odor is quite pleasant even without the luxury of bath or shower. Interesting. How do you do it?" he asked with a curious look. Lisbon just sighed and kept starring into the abyss wishing for more mental power.

"I have no idea," she said sincerely and watched Jane yawn. Maybe he was tired after all. "You should get some sleep. You going to need the rest."

"So do you," he stated back, feeling tired, probably from the painkillers.

"I had coffee, that´ll keep me awake," she said and Jane frowned at her. "I´ll wake Cho in about an hour and try to get some sleep myself, okay?"

Patrick tried to find any tell that would point to lying and found none. This time, she was sincere.

"I´ll have a sleeping bag if you want one."

"That would be very nice, thank you," Patrick replied with a small smile. It was warm enough outside and the car was occupied by snoring Cho. They both could hear him even through windows, so a sleeping bag sounded appealing. Lisbon nodded and Patrick watched her reaching for something in the trunk of her car. After a while, she came up with a sleeping bag, which smelled just like her. He wondered, spreading the bag onto the ground, how many times did this woman slept in it. He crawled in and closed his eyes. The last thing he saw before those painkillers finally lulled him into sleep was Lisbon leaning on the black Mustang, staring into the night.

* * *

"Anything?"

"Nothing. It goes to voicemail every time," agent Fischer replied. They´ve been trying to contact ex-agent Cho with no luck so far. "Maybe his former colleagues knows where he might be, want me to call them?" She asked.

"No, I will do that, later."

"I have another bad news," agent Fischer continued.

Abbott, already in a bad mood, raised his eyebrow at her. "What is it?"

"We just got information that Arnold Gupta, Patrick Jane´s agent, was found dead in his home. Hang himself."

"Suicide?"

"Looks like it. There were no signs of forced entry, no signs of struggle or fight."

"No note?"

"Nothing so far, but Boss, there was no reason for him to act like this. He was a host on some TV show just a few days ago, looked normal. Why would he commit suicide now? All of sudden? It makes no sense."

Abbott nodded. Something was terribly wrong. And he got a feeling that the particular "something" would bite his head off anytime soon.

"Look into that, we want to be fully informed."

"Will do..."

"Yes?" Abbott asked sensing that there was something more on agent´s Fischer mind.

"You don´t think that Teresa Lisbon had something to do with the murder of Clarissa Bianco, do you?"

Abbott shuddered, "I don´t know what to think. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes."

"I think so, too,"

Abbott raised his eyebrow again, "Do you? You don´t think a cop could join the dark side? After what she been through?"

Fischer shook her head, looking unconvinced, "No, I don´t think she did. But I do think she wants revenge. I watched Patrick Jane´s show where he spoke about Red John, and it occurred to me that Lisbon saw it -"

"And went to pay a visit to Mr.. Jane? I thought about it too. It seems logical," Abbott replied and nodded, offering agent Fischer a seat in front of him.

"Well, what if Lisbon wasn´t the only one watching the show...what if Red John saw it too? I mean, Lisbon spoke about him on the TV back then and it led to her friends being murdered. Evidently he doesn´t like to be talked about - unless it´s a praise."

Abbott shifted a bit in his chair, "You think that Red John went there too?"

"Maybe. I don´t know. Maybe he did go there, found Lisbon there, maybe they put up a fight...who knows?"

"Only they know. We just need to know. But there´s a problem in your thesis. McAllister´s men found Jane and Lisbon fleeting the scene. The girl was already murdered. Time of death -"

"Could be compromised. McAllister´s men could lie. He could lie."

"Why would he?" Abbott asked, intrigued.

"What were they doing there in the first place?"

"Routine check, making sure that Mr.. Jane remain safe."

"And you believe him?"

"I have to, unless there is any kind of evidence against it. I won´t risk destroying another cop career based on what I believe or don´t believe. We need proof."

"Right...yes, I know Boss. But maybe it would be good to look into that, just in case."

Abbott took a deep breath, trying to determine his options. There weren´t many. All he could to was investigate the case he got. Making his people dig into something hypothetical...it didn´t sound, or looked right. And if Fischer, or Lisbon, were right, they needed to watch their steps. All of them.

"Okay, but keep it low. Don´t let anybody know about our talk...not yet," he said after a while.

"Will do," Fischer said and got up, leaving restless Abbott all alone in his fish tank. They are all just a bunch of fish, some of them small, some of them big...All swimming, trying to survive and do their best. Then there´s the shark. He is Red, loves the smell of blood and has got no natural enemy. He swims around slowly, quietly, stalking his next prey, doing what he does best. Well, not for long buddy, Abbott thought.

"We will get you," he said determinately o the glass walls.

* * *

Phone rang for the third time until Wayne Rigsby finally picked it up. Grace just had her first morning sickness ever and he was in a process of holding her hair.

"Rigsby," he spoke and sat down.

 _"I know,_ " Cho´s voice echoed in his head.

"Hey, it´s so good to hear you man!"

 _"Yeah, thanks. Can you put me on speaker?"_

"Sure," he said and smiled. Some things never change. "Wait, I´ll get Grace," he added but Grace was already coming down the stairs.

"I´m here. Is that Cho?"

 _"Yes,"_ Cho said, this time on speaker.

"Oh my God! Are you okay? Is Lisbon there? What is happening guys?"

" _I´m here," Lisbon said, "and before we talk about anything else I want to tell you that I don´t want you being involved in...in...this, and I will understand if you don´t want it either, okay? It´s you decision and I will respect it."_

"We want to," Grace replied and Wayne sighed. "We do," he added.

 _"Good, that´s all I needed to hear,"_ someone said, someone who neither of them recognized.

 _"They don´t know the danger -"_ Lisbon said in a muffled voice, which was followed by _"Meh, I´ll bet they do,"_

"Um, guys? What is going on?"

 _"Sorry about that, mommy and daddy are having another fight,_ " Cho said with a smile in his voice.

"Who is that?" Wayne asked.

 _"I apologize for my rudeness, my name is Patrick Jane and I am the copycat killer, apparently. Nice to meet you both,"_

"Hi," Grace and Wayne said in unison, looking at each other, smiling, "So, what do you need?"

 _"We need to know everything that could be found about Sherriff Thomas McAllister - and nobody can know that you are searching. It is important, because if he finds out, you might end up dead. Can you do that?"_

"Nobody can know?"

 _"Not a soul. Is it possible?"_

Grace thought about it just for a seconds. There were ways and things she could do without anybody finding out. At least she hoped.

"Yes," she said, her eyes still locked into Wayne´s.

"But why McAllister?" Wayne asked. He remembered the man, a small town Sheriff, kind of dumb...There was silence on the other line for a while, until Lisbon spoke.

" _That´s not important."_

" _It kind of is,"_ Patrick added.

 _"I agree,"_ Cho said.

 _"I don´t care what you two think..."_ Lisbon said, evidently angry.

"He is Red John," Grace gasped out before any of the three people on the other line said it.

 _"Yes,"_ Cho said. "We have no proof. We need one."

 _"Technically, we have Lisbon, she saw him,"_ Patrick said.

 _"It´s my saying against his. I´ll doubt anybody would listen to me. They all think I am a basket case."_

"You saw him? When? How?" Grace asked, a shiver running down her spine.

 _"I remembered. Well, Jane here hypnotized me and...I saw him. Saw his face,"_

"Are you sure about it?" Wayne asked and regretted it when he saw the way his wife looked at him..."Just making sure," he said more to her than to them.

 _"Yes I am sure. As sure as I can be_ ," Lisbon said, sounding tired, _"That´s why you need to be super safe and I mean it. Nobody can know about this, are we clear?_ "

"Yes, yes, of course,"

"You can count on us," Wayne added and held Grace´s hand tightly.

 _"All right, glad this is settled. Now, any of you have any idea on where we could stay for a while? The car is a bit cramped,_ " Patrick said.

"We´ll think of something," Grace replied with a smile.

* * *

Red John read black notebook. Well, "read" was a huge understatement. He was immersed in it. His whole world was now revolving around a tiny black book, filled with Teresa Lisbon´s neat handwriting. You could tell a lot about person, judging their handwriting. The shape of letters, the way she spaced them, slanting, looping...everything!

This tiny book was a Godsend.

It was like having her mind right there in front of him. All he needed to do was open it and look.

She was very methodical, logical, tried to keep her emotions away while writing. Still, he could see some spots where tears probably fell.

Yet, she had no clue.

Or, she had millions of them. Depends on how you look at things. Some of her assumptions were almost correct and he felt a bit proud of her.

"I can´t wait to meet you again, Teresa," he said, reading the last page over and over again.

Suddenly, a knock on the door disrupted him.

He put the notebook away with a loud sigh. "Come in."

The door opened and revealed a tired looking man.

"Speak," Red John said and waited.

"We took care of everything, the cabin is secured."

"Good, at last. Now go, get some rest. You´ll continue search tomorrow. I´ll give you the information then."

"Yes, master," said the man and left.

Red John sighed. He turned on the TV after realizing what time it is. Had he been reading the notebook for two hours straight?

TV News. As annoying as they are, the source of information is a strong one. He turned the TV just at the right time, the anchor announcing that a certain Arnold Gupta was found dead in his own house, the Police suspect it was a suicide...

Sure it was a suicide.

All he need was a little push.

Red John was smiling while he leaning back in his chair, waiting for any other important information the world would give him.

* * *

 **Thank your for reading and I hope you enjoyed the read :)**


	7. Flashbacks

_A heads up - the first part of this chapter might be disturbing to someone - M-rated, but not graphic. I know I felt kind of bad writing it but that´s probably because of the characters displayed in it - the end of the part is marked with the letter M._

 _The whole chapter is a bit disturbing, as there are some references to violence but still, nothing graphic._

 _Still, I hope you enjoy the read._

* * *

Lorelei lied in kind-sized bed, sighing in irritation. She wasn´t alone in there. A man, her man, was there as well, obviously lost in thoughts. She tried to get his attention several times but with no luck. And damn she knew how to get attention.

She also knew what, or better, who, was occupying his mind.

Special Agent Teresa Lisbon. She had been on his mind for too long, claiming every minute of the time that was supposed to be hers. Lorelei Martins should be on Red John´s mind - at least now, while they lied in bed, naked together.

"You are thinking about _her_ again," she stated accusingly, kissing his chest, "I can to whatever _she_ can...and better," she said, making Red John chuckle amusingly.

"No Lorelei, you can´t," he replied with a smile and closed his eyes. "Lower," he ordered her and she obeyed.

"You sure about that?" she whispered between kisses, trying extra hard to please her Master.

"Yes," he breathed out. "I´m sure."

"Let me change your mind then...," she whispered against his feverish skin.

Red John shifted a bit gaining a better position for what was about to come. Lorelei was always trying to beat her personal best and he was in no mood to stop her. If it was her desire, to prove him wrong, he´ll let her try. However, his mind cannot be changed by his Mistress. It cannot be changed by anybody. He found out who he is ages ago and that was the last day of crippling doubts.

He is a leader. He had found the truth. The ultimate meaning of life.

And he needs a successor.

He groaned loudly, dizzy with desire, and felt Lorelei smiling against his skin. She was truly enjoying pleasing him and to be fair to her, she was the best in this particular...activity. But that was it. He made her into who she is today. Without him, this little damaged slut would probably find a man who would beat the shit out of her on regular basis and she would let him. Years later, having enough of his savageness, she would kill his sorry ass in an anger outburst resulting in a life spent in prison.

With him?

She could be who she was, without the fear, without the doubts - a true follower. Because that is who she is. She follows his every step, she always do what he asks her to do - not out of fear, not by a force, but because she wants to please him. Because he gave her a reason. A reason to live.

That´s a good quality for a follower...not so good for a leader.

He wants his successor to be a leader - he, or she, had to be one. Red John must continue, he will make sure of that.

He discarded the idea of finding someone in his own society - too much work with such a little reward. Desperation was reaching a high point and then, one night, lying in his bed a year ago,an idea popped into his mind. An idea that had been keeping him occupied ever since. He became even more occupied by it after discovering Special Agent Teresa Lisbon - the one and only.

She was a leader by nature, just like him. He could see that in her body, in her eyes...her movements. He would forever remember the speech she gave about how she will end the terror caused by him. The research he made about her life proved the fact that she is a leader even more. One thing was sure to Red John. She would never follow him around, would never obey him - not until he breaks her, and God knows there would be no reason for keeping her afterwards - maybe, just maybe, only as a pet - he wasn´t sure of being able to kill her.

Probably not.

Yet, she could help him create a successor.

She could bear his child.

And she will.

Red John arched his back upwards in a sudden need for release, moaning Teresa´s name while Lorelei administrated her best moves. She could heard him calling _her_ name, hating the woman who stole her Master affection with new found ferocity.

M

* * *

"I said no! And what did you do, all of you? You big fat did it anyway!"

"You needed sleep," Cho said to raging Lisbon and stepped away knowing they crossed the line this time. Well, the line wasn´t crossed. It was totally overlooked and left behind and nobody could even see it anymore.

"We want to help you Boss," Van Pelt tried to chip in with her explanation, unaware of what the word Boss might cause.

Lisbon´s hands went to her temples and she whispered, quite angrily, "I am not your Boss anymore..."

"If that´s true," Cho said, " you should stop acting like one,"

Patrick watched the scene from a little distance and took a deep breath in. This whole thing just probably backfired the worst possible way ever. He knew that drugging Lisbon would made her angry, but that woman refused to sleep, surviving only on those damned cigarettes and water. So slipping her a sleeping pill seemed like lesser of two evils.

However, what was even worse...was the trip they´ve just made.

Two other people added to their mission and Lisbon was not happy about it. Apparently, Rigsby and Van Pelt found a way and rented a cabin in the woods, off the grid, posing as somebody else. Giving their skills in cyber crimes, Van Pelt was 100% sure it could not be traced back to them. Jane, on the other hand, was not so sure and kept looking over the hills, expecting a convoy of FBI vehicles any time soon.

Because as it turned out, FBI had contacted the Rigsby family more than once, asking questions - basically interrogating them. They claimed to know nothing and Patrick believed them.

"Okay," Lisbon said and defeat lined her words. "Okay...all of you seem to think to know what is best for me...I can honestly tell you this is not it. I am going to take a walk," she muttered and turned away from only friends she have.

"You shouldn´t go alone," Van Pelt said and followed her.

"Maybe. I will, though," Lisbon replied and kept on walking which made Van Pelt stop immediately.

"Wow," Rigsby said when Lisbon vanished between trees.

"Yeah," Cho added and crossed his hand on his chest.

"She´s just afraid. Not for her herself, but for all of you. You all know that, right?" Jane said, feeling like he´s the only one able to understand her. "She´s not ungrateful."

"Of course we know that," Van Pelt said but Jane could clearly see the hurt in her eyes. She evidently expected a heartwarming get-together which could never happen under these circumstances. That was not the only thing Jane could clearly see while looking at Van Pelt. There were her clothes for example, evidently worn a lot before, yet too tight for her now - mainly around her...well, chest area. Rigsby kept stealing glances at her and she gave him a reassuring smiles from time to time.

Given the morning time and Van Pelt´s general paleness, she had her morning sickness already.

"You´re pregnant," Patrick said all of sudden, thinking how this particular information will affect Lisbon. Probably not well.

In other words - she will freak out.

Van Pelt and Rigsby stared at Jane in shock, while Cho stared at them.

"Are you?" Cho asked and Van Pelt nodded.

"You really shouldn´t come here then," he said, looking troubled.

"That´s what I told her -" Rigsby tried to speak but his wife cut him off, like it usually happens in marriages.

"I don´t want my child live in a world where Red John roams free," Van Pelt said heartily, "I want to help," she said.

"Let´s go in then," Cho said after a quiet while. "You said you found something?"

"Yeah, it´s not much..."

"Jane, you coming?" Cho asked as the three of them headed for the cabin.

"I´ll be right there," he said, following Lisbon´s steps.

* * *

Once out of sight, Lisbon leaned over a tree breathing hard, trying very much to regain some stability. Another image from the night crossed her mind - his face leaning over hers - and she threw up, feeling sick like she haven´t felt in ages. Sleeping pill, such a great idea, right? It helps you sleep, that´s for sure. I also prohibits you from waking up, forcing you to kept your eyes shut during those vivid nightmares she had to go through the whole night, while the two of them drove her here.

"Idiots," she muttered through gripped teeth, and coughed. Luckily for her, her empty stomach couldn´t give her a lot to work with.

"Lisbon?"

She sighed. Of course one of them followed her. She remained silent, not wanting them to see her like this.

"I know you are here somewhere and I´m not leaving -"

"Crap," she whispered when another wave of nausea hit her and suddenly, Jane had no trouble finding her anymore.

* * *

He held her hair while she emptied her stomach, cursing himself and Cho immensely. He apologized, once, twice and she just waved her hand and coughed as an answer.

"I think my head is going to explode," she whispered after a while , chuckling, which made Jane worry even more.

"Let´s get you to bed, okay?"

"Yeah, sleep is just what I need right now..."

"Fair enough. Let´s make a deal - you will lie down and I will make sure that you won´t fall asleep," he said and she chuckled again.

"Says a man who drugged me...I sure trust you now, Jane."

"I do apologize. It seemed like a great idea at the time. Now, as I can clearly see, it wasn´t that great."

"You think?"

"Lisbon, you need to lie down -"

"I don´t want them to see me like this," she muttered quietly making Jane sigh out loud.

"They are your friends. I´m sure they can handle it."

Lisbon hesitated for a tiny little while, right until the colors vanished from her vision and everything turned black and white. "Okay," she breathed out and let Jane steady her on the way to the cabin.

Once inside the cabin, every sight fell on ashen Lisbon being carried by Jane.

"Oh my God, what happened?" Van Pelt was the first to react and went to help Jane carry her former Boss.

"Nothing," Lisbon whispered. "Just got a little sick, is all...no, no, I´m fine," she said, fighting the blanket someone tried to put over her. "I´m fine...so, what did you guys found out? Fill me in," she said sitting up, trying very hard to look...well, normal.

"Let me get you some water first," Jane said to what she rolled her eyes.

* * *

Thomas McAllister was born as an only child, raised mostly by his mother while his father served his country. He was a bright child, scoring high points on intelligence tests and nothing suggested that the young boy in the picture will be a serial killer in the future.

Nothing normal people could see.

Patrick spent long time looking at the photo, trying to decipher it. It was taken at home, or it seemed to. Young McAllister was standing in front a giant fireplace. The fireplace held pictures of his father mostly. There was only one picture of his parents together. Pictures of the boy were nowhere to be found - at least not in this angle.

The kid itself looked unhappy. He was smiling, but the smile was not reaching his eyes. He had a small bruise on his right hand, something the others missed. I

His stare was...troubled. The kid on the picture was afraid.

"Do we have any other pictures?" Patrick asked and Van Pelt gave him another sheets of paper.

"Some, I know it´s not much," she said gloomily - mimicking the mood in the cabin.

"No, it´s more than enough, thank you Grace," Patrick said and took a look over the second photo make Van Pelt smile a little. An older McAllister, standing in front of his school, with a bunch of other boys. Another normal photo which was not so normal. McAllister was smiling this time, a true smile was playing on his lips. The other boys weren´t looking into the camera like he was. They were looking at him. Smiling with him.

The other pictures, all three of them, showed young McAllister being surrounded by people, people who seemed to be enjoying his company. He wondered it all of them are still alive.

"How did his father died?" Patrick asked.

"The report said he died in car crash month before McAllister turned eighteen. Someone forced him out of the road. The culprit was never found and McAllister used this story as an explanation why he became a cop," Grace read her own notes.

Patrick nodded. " _That_ was his first kill, most likely."

"You think he killed his father?" Grace asked, horrified.

"It is possible," Lisbon said, "He mentioned his father to me...I think," she said, still feeling dizzy with the headache getting worse every time she tried to think about that bastard.

"What?" Patrick asked. "Why are you only mentioning this now?"

Lisbon, sighing deeply, spoke. "It just came to me..."

"What did he say?" Cho asked, while everyone in the cabin was focusing on Lisbon´s words.

"That...he hated him...like I hated mine..." she whispered. "I...I told him I never hated my father and he got angry..." she continued, keeping her eyes closed shut. "And...and..." she whispered, her lower lip trembling just as she was.

"Stop it," Patrick said and went to the couch, grasping her hand tightly. "Lisbon, can you hear me?"

"What´s wrong with her?" Rigsby asked, worry filling his face.

"Red John did something to her- ," Cho said and Patrick shushed him.

"Lisbon? I need you to stop this, you are hurting yourself,"

"And I told him to go to hell," she continued, breathing heavily. "And then..."

* * *

Red John paced around the cold steel bed, listening to Teresa´s lies. Somehow, this woman had what it takes to make him furious. Angry. Too much angry. She was strapped on that bed for nearly three days and still, STILL, she fought him. Not physically, of course. It was her mind that fought. It shouldn´t. Not anymore.

"Lying to yourself is one thing, Teresa, but lying to me? I know the truth!" Red John almost yelled and Lisbon thought this is it. This is how it will all end.

"I´m not lying," she whispered, keeping the tears at bay. Thanks to the severe dehydration it was not a hard task. "I loved my father despite his moods...they weren´t his fault..."

"He beat you! And your brothers! He almost killed you!"

"As as said, it...wasn´t his fault. I still loved him...I understood his pain...and I feel sorry for you...nobody has ever understood you...and nobody ever will...they just pretend to...Because I know the truth, too - you´re wrong. You´ve always been. I loved my father and he loved me -"

"Shut! Up!" he ordered, angry beyond understanding. No one has challenged him like this since his childhood. No one should. No one could. "I could easily kill you right now," he whispered, breathing heavily making her shiver all over.

"But you won´t" she mumbled, disoriented. "I know...you won´t...

"You´re right," Red John said, knowing that killing this woman would be just such a waste. Torturing and using her on the other way..."I won´t - but...I can make sure you WISHED I would...," he whispered into her ear, gripping his trusty steel knife. "Your father probably prepared you for life in a misery...I doubt he prepared you for this!"

* * *

He was right, Lisbon thought after he was done with her - she wished for this to be over. Given the way she felt right now, it won´t take long for her wish to come true.

Her breathing was rapid and shallow, she felt lightheaded, weak...confused. Blinking rapidly, Lisbon took in what she thought was the last look on the room where she would most likely die. It was not a nice room. It was not a nice death.

She was cold, trembling as much as the restraints allowed her to.

She couldn´t cry - but not because she didn´t want to.

Her eyes fell on her strapped down hands seeing that her fingernails had turned blue. Her lips were probably blue, too, she just couldn´t check it.

Hypovolemic shock.

Without the medical attention, there was no chance she would survive this, and since there was not a chance she would get any kind of attention other than torture...she closed her eyes, bracing for what was about to come.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened again, letting real light in, burning her eyes even while they were closed. Being in this darkness for too long, her eyes adjusted to it.

"She will die unless you help her," she could hear Red John say, his voice emotionless.

"Isn´t it what you want?" a man she didn´t recognize by voice asked, genuinely surprised.

"No," Red John said calmly, "I just got a little carried away with her."

"I can see that," the other man said taking in the gruesome sight in front of him. Poor woman. "I need to unstrap her."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes it is. I doubt she will put up a fight, if that´s what you afraid off. She´s barely breathing and going into shock. I need to maneuver her."

"I see. Do what you need to do," Red John said finally. "And no one will heard about this, am I clear?"

"Of course. My lips are sealed as always, my Master," the man said and Lisbon could feel the pressure on her hands disappearing. She wiggled a little when the other man spoke again and the door closed shut meaning Red John left.

"Now now, don´t you move darling. You´ll just make it worse. I will take care of you, don´t worry. I have saved many lives and yours no different, is it?"

"Eat...shit," she muttered and lost consciousness.

The man just smiled. That was not the usual respond he got. No wonder Master wants this woman alive.

* * *

"How is she?" Red John asked the medic, standing in his little hide-out, looking out of the tiny window, watching, waiting.

"Stable. She is heading for a kidney failure thought. If it gets any worse - and it will - , she will need a proper medical attention. Nothing I can do here, under these circumstances."

Red John turned around to face the medic - a man that had helped him keep many people alive until he was done with them.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. Her urine - there´s blood in it. The severe dehydration and blood loss -"

"How long?" Red John cut him, knowing perfectly well why her kidneys were failing.

"Maybe a day - after that, I would strongly recommend to put her in a hospital care. Kidney failure is treatable yet the longer we wait the worse it will get. It´s progressive and if it goes too far, it´s irreversible."

Red John sat down at a wooden chair and leaned it, sighing. He was so looking forward for spending a lot more time with Teresa but...he needed her healthy. For her ultimate purpose to be filled she needed to healthy, with organs working.

"Very well. I will make sure she´ll make it to the hospital tomorrow. Until then, I expect you to keep her alive. A lot depends on it - your own life too."

"As you wish," the medic said, "will you see her again today?"

Red John stared into the wide space in front of him and nodded, "Yes I will. Soon. Now go, make sure she´s alive when I get there."

The medic nodded and left, leaving Red John alone in his little room, lost in thoughts.

She made him angry. And he couldn´t control himself. He nearly killed her...Losing control like that...It shouldn´t happen.

She has to go, at least for now. She will get better and he will learn how not to lose control himself while facing her.

As he said before, a lot depends on this.

* * *

FBI Supervisory Special Agent Dennis Abbott had had a really bad day. Not only his people couldn´t locate the whereabouts of Kimball Cho, Wayne Rigsby and Grace Van Pelt have gone missing, too. Something was telling him that the old CBI team got back together and is working on its own.

That needs to be stopped.

"Anything Wylie?"

"Not yet," the young agent said, typing on his computer like crazy. Abbott knew that he won´t stop until something pops out. He was already looking like he needed a solid eight hours of sleep.

They all did.

Abbott nodded and went into his own little glass office when his phone rang. With a loud sigh, he picked it up, wondering what will come next.

"Special Agent Dennis Abbott, FBI."

"Evening, Agent Abbott, this is Sheriff Thomas McAllister of Nappa Valley and I was wondering if I could steal a bit of your precious time so you could enlighten me on whether if FBI looking into me and my men? And if so, why?"

Abbott took a deep breath in. So, the Sheriff finally found out. It was bound to happen sooner or later, better deal with it quick and painlessly.

"Evening to you too Sheriff. I´m sure you do understand that I don´t have to answer any of your questions, or any questions regarding the ongoing investigation," Abbott replied calmly, "and we are not giving any information out, now even to you. Or to your men."

There was a silence on the other line for a while until Sheriff McAllister spoke again.

"I sure do understand that Agent Abbott and I´m not asking for any information about the investigation. All I was asking for was a little agency to agency courtesy. So, I will change my question...should we be worried? My men are good men. They -"

"No, you shouldn´t be worried Sheriff, nor your men. Now, I have work to do, so if there´s anything -"

"No," McAllister replied, "That´s all I needed to know. Thank you Agent Abbott, I won´t bother the mighty FBI anymore." And then he hung up leaving Abbott alone once again.

"That was weird," he muttered to himself and called Fischer, hoping she would bear some good news.

She didn´t.

* * *

Red John put the phone down with a smile on his face. So...the team got together finally as the double agent working at FBI informed him. It´s just a matter of time before they make a mistake and the FBI will find them.

Not all of them, of course.

Until those idiots at FBI put two and two together, Teresa Lisbon would be just here, with him. And that´s all that matters to him.

The search had been already conducted again, this time with more of his people and different bases had been covered. As he said, a matter of time.

This Thomas McAllister persona will be finally able to disappear forever - nothing else will remain, but Red John.

Until then, Red John immersed into the Black Notebook again.

He read it again, while Lorelei lay in his bed, unnoticed, forgotten.

And furious.

* * *

Patrick stayed with Lisbon when Grace admitted to actually be too tired to stay awake any longer. She went to sleep just a little before the midnight, unable to stay up anymore. He stayed with Lisbon when Rigsby went to join Cho on the look-out outside after his wife had fallen asleep.

Him staying with her had nothing to do with cowardice or laziness.

He stayed right where he was because Lisbon had laced her little fingers with his after that one particularly bad flashback.

She got them scared. All of them. That´s why Grace stayed up until midnight even though her eyelids were drooping two hours ago. That´s why both Cho and Rigsby refused to go to sleep and watched over them during the night.

And that was why Patrick Jane was still up, brushing her tiny cold hand with his thumb, desperately wishing for her to wake up.

Because, honestly, he couldn´t tell if she was sleeping or it was something else.

Her breathing was normal, finally. Yet, given her previous sleeping patterns resulting in nightmares, this peaceful slumber might not actually be a peaceful slumber.

To be honest, he had no idea what was happening with her. Her friends - people who were supposed to know her better than anyone - were all looking at him while she trashed on that couch, asking without words, just with their eyes.

What´s happening? What´s wrong with her?

How could he now? The fact is Teresa Lisbon just came into his life days ago...she´d been part of theirs for years.

Perhaps she was just good at guarding her own privacy, or...no. The other option was bullshit. They cared for her. They cared to much that they were willing to risk their lives for her.

Yet, none of them really knew her - they knew their Boss, Special Agent Teresa Lisbon. They probably had no idea who she was, once outside of work. They couldn´t be blamed if they had no idea who Teresa Lisbon is after the abduction.

He wondered if she knows that herself.

"Ugh...Jane...?" she whispered all of sudden.

"I´m here," he replied, relieved at the fact that she finally woke up.

"What happened...?" she asked quietly and shifted a little to be able to face him, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, "God I´m thirsty..."

"You had another flashback. I´ll get you some water,"

"Thanks," she murmured, releasing his hand from hers and he went to fill a cup with cold tap water. Once he gave her the cup, she gulped it down in seconds.

"Glad you´re up finally," Patrick said, kneeling down to her once again, "you got us all worried."

"I know why he let me go...back then," she whispered to Jane, ignoring his words, knowing he had really no idea what she is talking about. Yet, he listened, so she continued, figuring that talking is not as that bad as...being silent. "I´ve been wondering why he did that for the last few months, trying to find any reason behind it...,"

"And?" he asked, holding her hand again.

"My kidneys," she said and chuckled. "They stopped working. That was it. It was not a remorse, nor pity...I needed hospital care. That´s why he let me go," she continued, looking worse by seconds. "I remembered...He needs me for something, Jane. He needs me healthy and well. And I´m afraid that I know what his plan with me is..."

"Oh," he whispered, the realization hitting him hard, "You don´t think that -"

"I don´t think that...I know that," she chuckled again, without any humor in it. "Now, I finally know."

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Yeah...don´t tell the others," she whispered, worry and shame flashing in her eyes.

"Lisbon -"

"Please," she pleaded. "I don´t usually beg but Jane...I´m _begging you_ now," she said while fighting tears that were about to be shed.

Patrick nodded as an agreement and did something someone should do ages ago. He gave her a hug, which resulted in flinching at first, however, seconds later she relaxed into his embrace.

"Listen, Lisbon, I know I said that we should use you as a bait for my plan, but given the recent findings -"

"I can handle it," she whispered, yet stayed in his embrace.

"Can you?" Patrick asked sincerely, shifting a little, trying to see her face. "I know I couldn´t."

"Well, that´s you," she said and wiggled out of his embrace, wearing a strong cop mask again - except her eyes. Her eyes told him she was afraid. Very afraid. "There´s just no other way. Not anymore. He wants me and now that I finally know why...I can prepare myself."

"You should tell the team Lisbon,"

"Yeah, right. I should tell them right now. Hey guys, guess what? Red John wants to have a child with me, great huh?" she said tiredly and finally, a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Well, I would definitely use a different kind of phrasing -"

"What kind of person does that make me? He finds me interesting enough to...to -"

"Well, let me see. You´re strong, independent, confident and loyal person. People follow you - even when you try to push away, as we can easily see," he said and smirked, emitting a little smile from her. "You´ve been away from your team for more than half a year and they still call you boss," Patrick said before she could interrupt him, understanding why this new particular and horrifying information made her upset. "Those are great qualities for a leader and I´m sure he´s looking just for that. Besides, there´s the daddy issues -"

"Wait, if you´re saying that I have -"

"No, no, no Lisbon, not you. He does," Patrick said but Lisbon just huffed, brushing those few shed tears away from her cheeks.

"Look Lisbon, you are nothing like him. Not realizing this _is_ and _will_ be his biggest mistake. Trust me," he said confidently.

"Okay," she whispered finally, sighing. "Where is everyone?" she asked worriedly and looked around only now realizing that the room was empty.

"Cho and Rigsby are out and Grace is sleeping in the bedroom getting the much needed sleep. "

"I scared them, haven´t I?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, they´d be very happy to hear that you´re fine. As a matter of fact, I should go and tell them," he said, standing up when she grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"I´m going with you, help me up, will you?"

"Of course I will," he said, knowing that ordering or even just suggesting some more bed rest was pointless and helped her up. "Hold onto me. You´re dizzy, I don´t want you to fall."

"I´m not dizzy," she said but grabbed his arm tightly, steadying herself in the process.

"Of course you aren´t."

"Oh, hush and just help me."

"Ah, a plea for help. You are finally starting to get rational...," Patrick said and lead her out of the cabin.

"Oh, shut up," she said, but smiled, showing her dimples, and Patrick knew he was screwed. He wanted to see her smile again.

He cared about her more then he would like to admit.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading and your feedback. I´m planning on wrapping this story soon, if I can manage that somehow, so the next chapter will finally include a plan to catch Red John. Hopefully - I will try hard to come up with something that makes sense :)_

 _Wish me luck._


	8. All in

_Hello people who still reads this story, I have a warning for you before you read this chapter. It´s dark. If you found Lisbon´s flashbacks bad, then...this is even worse. I have reconnected with my dark side, apparently. I can´t even point out which are the dark parts because this chapter is riddled with them - it would be pointless. I have to say there´s nothing too graphic, but there is a bit of torture with the sexual overtone, (and some without it) and I understand that not all people like that, so...You´ve been warned - strong content inside, read it at your own risk._

* * *

Lisbon woke up with a pounding head ache, disoriented and weak. Her vision was blurry and she tried to blink it away, wondering what the hell had happened. The last thing she remembered was...the cabin?

And yelling.

Total chaos.

She shivered. Whenever she was, it was cold in here.

What was worrying her even more was the fact she couldn´t move.

Her hands were tied behind her back.

Her legs tied together, too.

Groaning in pain, Lisbon tried to move a bit.

"Ah, I see you´re awake, finally," someone said. A woman´s voice she never heard before.

"Where am I...?" she muttered tasting copper in her mouth.

"Well, considering what I´m about to do with you _Teresa_ , I would say Hell...or Paradise, I don´t really know your preferences," the voice continued. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head up. She whined quietly, it hurt.

"A whine? Seriously? You´re whining? I can´t believe he chose _you._ You´re nothing but a cry baby," the woman said and tsked. "An ugly one, too," she continued. Her grip loosened and Lisbon head hit the ground making her see stars.

"Who...are you?" she managed to get through gritted teeth.

"I´m the one Red John will chose over you, my lovely little idiot. I mean, once I´m done with you. I have so much planned for you, trust me."

"Release me," Lisbon said in angry voice, "Or -"

"Or what? You whine me to death? Face it Teresa, you´re done. No one is going to save you, not that blond psychic idiot of yours, or your stupid CBI friends...they are all locked at the FBI. Sure, they´ll find you, eventually. But you´d be dead by then."

Lisbon groaned again, fighting the thing she was tied up with. "Fuck you!" she yelled, not ready to give up.

"Watch your tongue little Teresa, or I´ll cut it off," she said casually.

"I´d like to see you try," Lisbon mumbled. It was a mistake. A blow so strong it made her lose breath hit her stomach and she cried out in pain.

"You sure ´bout that?" the woman whispered into her ear. "I´m well known for keeping my promises, so be careful what you wish for..."

There was no answer to that. Only coughing and groaning.

"That´s better. Now, I think you already know what Red John has planned for you. Or maybe you don´t that doesn´t really matter. But, my ugly _friend,_ it won´t happen. Still...I was thinking...instead of killing you here and now, why should I deprive you of the experience that was ahead? I´ve been _His_ lover for years, I´ve seen his best and I´ve seen his worst. I´m sure that I can recreate the...experience. Make it real enough for you. Look at me."

Lisbon kept her head down, breathing hard, eyes closed.

"Look at me you idiot!"

"Go eat shit..."

"Oh, you´re a stubborn one. Red John would be so angry about it...you´re lucky that I´m not," she said, grinning.

The woman grabbed her head again, lifted it up to be face to face.

"At least face your killer, brave _Teresa,"_ she spat out her name.

Lisbon opened her eyes, vision still a bit blurry.

A pair of brown eyes were looking into her green one´s.

"Hello," the woman said stroking her hair. "We´re going to have so much fun."

* * *

Patrick Jane was seated in one of the interrogation rooms for hours without anyone actually interrogating him. His leg was twitching like crazy. The events from several hours made him restless and weary. The FBI has finally found them. Took them into the custody. Yet...nothing was happening and he was getting impatient and riddled with worries.

Where is everybody?

Why is nobody talking to him?

The agents were ready to give them a "couple of questions" few hours ago and yet still nothing happened. Nobody entered the room once, nobody was asking any questions. He was pretty damn sure this wasn´t the standard procedure.

Something must´ve had happened.

Something really bad.

His mind went to Lisbon who was asleep when the FBI raided the cabin. They were separated back then and no amount of yelling and pleading made them listen.

"You got the wrong ones!" Cho yelled at them just few hours ago.

Nobody cared.

Patrick was sure that Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt are too locked up in other interrogating rooms as he is. At least he hoped so. But Lisbon? He wasn´t so sure. If Red John indeed had a mole in the FBI there was a possibility that she was taken. It would explain that nobody entered his room for hours.

"HEEEY!" He yelled, deprived of any self control. "CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHAT IS HAPPENING? I KNOW YOU ARE THERE! HEEEEY!"

He yelled and yelled.

Nobody came to talk to him for another hour.

* * *

Abbott pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed angrily.

"You lost her?"

"We have found the vehicle alongside with two dead agents. Both shot to the head with the same caliber. Teresa Lisbon was nowhere to be found. Is it possible she was carrying a -"

"A gun? No. They´ve been searched before taking into custody, their guns seized. How the hell did this happen?" he asked himself rather than the man standing in front of him. "We have to find her. And find her fast."

"We are already searching the area, there is a patrol on every border and her picture was sent to other agencies and hospitals all around the state. If she´s running, we´ll find her."

Abbott shook his head.

"I don´t think she´s running anymore."

* * *

Patrick was almost out of breath when the door to his tiny cell opened and two agents popped in. One of them was clearly the one in charge, wearing a grim mask. The other one was a woman, her posture and expression suggesting she´d been yelled at just a while ago. She has messed up.

Something was indeed wrong.

"Good evening Mr. Jane, my name is Dennis Abbott and I´m -"

"You run this place. I got it. What´s happening? Where´s Lisbon?"

Tiny pause. Eye movement. The woman blinked fast and licked her lips.

"You lost her. You seized us and lost her. Now, you have two options presented -"

"You are not here to give us advices, Mr. Jane," the woman said and sat down, "You are here to give us answers."

"Either you stop acting like idiots and save her or you will face the responsibility for her death. An innocent agent tortured and killed on your watch, that won´t look good on your résumé -"

"Innocent you say?" Abbott asked before the woman who did not introduced herself opened her mouth to talk back.

"Yes."

"So it´s not true that the two of you murdered a young girl at your residence -"

"It´s Thomas McAllister. Red John. It´s the Sheriff of Nappa Valley. And I´m telling you this based on two facts. Either you are his moles and I´m going to end up dead, or you are not. If you are not, you still might have a chance in saving the life of an innocent woman and your careers, too. Your choice." he said with the coldest look he could muster under these circumstances because deep down, he was done. Imagining what might be happening to Lisbon right now was making him sick to his stomach and he barely contained himself.

Abbott took in a long breath.

"Tell us what happened. From the beginning." The man was desperate.

"I see you finally regained some sense..." Patrick muttered.

Then, he talked.

* * *

Red John felt let down. Betrayed. And intrigued. Driving his old pick-up truck, clean shaved, he followed the tiny dot on his GPS tracker. An half a hour to reach the target.

Poor Lorelei.

Making such a mistake as taking Teresa away from him was not a good idea. He hoped, for his sake, that Lorelei would like to have a little fun before terminating Teresa´s life.

How did he not see this?

He must´ve been so deep in his own plan that he overlooked Lorelei planning her own. Still, the woman is insane. She misbehaved. She disobeyed his order. She was no longer his follower as she acted on her own.

It would´ve been a good thing if it wasn´t done out of jealousy. If she couldn´t see the greatness of his plan, she clearly wasn´t worth a shit. Despite what he felt for Teresa, Lorelei was still his lover and losing her would be painful. And beautiful. Both things at the same time.

He could have reached her differently.

But this was way more entertaining.

Lorelei´s techniques were...spot on and perhaps she could teach Teresa few tricks before he arrives and stops the little show.

If he´s late though...No. He can´t think like this. He knows Lorelei. She´s like a cat, she loves playing with her catch before devouring it. There is no way she would pass on an opportunity like this.

Red John sped up with a terrifying grin on his face.

* * *

"I don´t think he´s lying," said a man behind the glass.

Abbott, standing beside him, watched Patrick Jane bow his head down and nodded. "I don´t think he´s lying, too. But are we able to trust him? Trust them?" Abbott asked. Cho, Van Pelt and Rigsby, they were all telling the same story. It all checked out. But still. There was no proof. No evidence. Only their words which might be lies.

Someone knocked fiercely startling both men.

"Yes?" Abbott barked at the door.

"Uh," It was Wiley, "I´m sorry to interrupt but we have a problem."

"What is it, Agent Wiley?"

"Sheriff McAllister is gone. So is his station. The building burned down just a couple of hours ago -"

"WHAT?" Abbott yelled, "Why has nobody informed us?"

Wiley, a young agent, swallowed hard. "They just did."

"Son of a bitch," Abbott muttered angrily.

* * *

"You´ve fainted again, idiot. How are you supposed to enjoy this when you faint all the time?"

"You´re insane," Lisbon mumbled, her head dizzy, her own mind giving up on her, "I can..help...you, you don´t have to be like this..."

Lorelei laughed.

"You truly are an idiot.. Now, open your mouth so we can try this again."

Lisbon shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. Not again. Not ever again.

"Why can´t you follow a simple procedure? You´ll do as I say and I won´t hit you that much."

"Well, if you´re like this..." Lorelei muttered and grabbed her nose, cutting the oxygen intake. "Now let´s see how long you´ll keep that prude mouth of yours shut...Good girl...that´s the spirit...he likes it all the way in... Oh, no you don´t! Oh, Teresa, you are truly lucky that I found you before Red John did, I don´t think you would be able to go through his treatment, really. I haven´t even started moving yet! This is simple as is it. Take it in and don´t throw up. How hard it can be?"

Lisbon gagged again, the _thing_ in her mouth making her sick beyond words. She shifted a little, trying to make _it_ , make _her_ stop.

Lorelei grabbed Lisbon´s head and held it tight, while her hips moved slowly back and forth until Lisbon once again started making gurgling noises and soon, Lorelei was forced to stop what she was doing and listened to Lisbon´s coughing fit.

"Aww, you little shit. You´re truly are a lost cause."

"Leave me alone...you sick bitch..."she whispered, unable to fight anymore, all of her strength gone.

Lorelei chuckled.

"And why would I do that? Huh? Because you are asking me so nicely?"

Lisbon mind raced. She had no idea how much of this she could endure before losing her mind completely. Talk. She have to make her talk. Sooner or later she´ll lost interest in putting that thing in her mouth and...that can´t happen. There weren´t many options in where to put it next.

"He´ll find us. He´ll kill you if you hurt me..." she mumbled, hoping that wasn´t the case. Hoping that the FBI would find them sooner than Red John. Praying even.

For a moment, Lorelei looked unsure, giving the thought, well a thought.

"He won´t," she finally said, smiling. "Even if he finds us, he´ll see that you are just a little cry baby who can´t even suck properly. Why would he want to keep you, anyway?"

"He kissed me," Lisbon whispered, "I saw his face...and he couldn´t kill me."

Lorelei face grew red.

"When?" she demanded to know.

"Does...it matter?" she croaked, "It happened. He wants me, not you. Deal...with...it."

"You´re lying!" Lorelei yelled and stood up, pacing around tied up Lisbon. "Don´t lie to me or I´ll cut you, you damn swine!"

"Jealous much?" Lisbon said and chuckled, her mind once again entering the hazy and foggy state.

Lorelei stopped pacing around and looked down at the woman lying by her feet, completely at her mercy.

"You nearly got me there..." she said and knelt down. "You really know how to push some buttons, don´t you Teresa? But I´ve spent years with the greatest mind manipulator...and you´re nothing compared to him. You don´t work well with that mouth of yours, sweetheart. Time to move on."

"No," Lisbon said hoarsely, trying to get away from Lorelei as far as possible, knowing very well where Lorelei wanted to take this.

"Where do you think you´re going, idiot? Yeah, keep crawling, that´ll do the trick, my goodness, really..."

Lorelei grabbed Lisbon´s bare feet and pulled her back.

"You look like a disgusting little worm squirming on the ground. No doubt you´re still alone. Has anybody ever fucked you, Teresa? It wouldn´t surprise me if nobody had ever craved you. Well, luckily for you, I crave you more than anything."

"Go fuck _yourself_..."Lisbon whispered and Lorelei chuckled.

"Now, now. Let´s not get ahead of ourselves. You´re my guest, you should go first. Then I´ll do me and maybe let you watch."

Lisbon didn´t have any energy left for a reply. She could hear Lorelei rustling with something, humming some catchy tune while doing it.

"There, all set. Wanna see? No? That doesn´t matter, you stupid little idiot. All I need for you to do is spread your legs wide open, hm?"

"No," she managed to say, feeling numb. Her mind was shutting down again, it felt like she wasn´t even inside her body. She was out of it, watching Lorelei leaning over her tiny bruised body, touching her legs...grinning.

"Stop," she muttered again when Lorelei´s hands grabbed her knees, forcing them apart.

"Make me," she whispered.

Lisbon had had enough. She couldn´t do a thing.

"That´s what I thought..."

Lorelei saw that there was no more power in the little woman´s body to fight anymore and she took out a small knife, cutting the rope holding Lisbon´s feet together. She needed to undress her first. When the rope was gone and Lisbon´s legs free, Lorelei tugged her jeans down with a smile.

Scars were all over her white legs and she admired her master´s handiwork at first. "You´re so white...ashamed of the scars, are we? You shouldn´t be. It´s a honor wearing them, you idiot."

"Leave me alone...please..." she pleaded, stripped of all strength and hope.

"Begging is not going to get you anywhere. Besides, Red John loves when his lovers cry...I must say that I love it, too."

Lisbon could feel hands roaming all over her body, her breasts, stomach, underbelly...

But her legs were free.

She kicked with all the force remaining in her.

She kicked hard.

Her eyes were still closed when Lorelei yelled and fell down on her back, swearing profoundly.

"You stupid little cunt! You broke my nose! I´m bleeding!" she rambled loudly, trying to get up.

"Good," Lisbon whispered and curled into a ball, fighting the tears which were escaping her eyes.

"I´m going to kill you!" Lorelei yelled, ready to beat the shit out of her, furious and ashamed. She should have expect this. Red John sure would. She grabbed her bat, used especially in situations like these and was ready to flung it when the door opened.

"That´s enough, Lorelei," said a man in a well known voice.

She froze.

Lisbon, squirming on the ground, took a quick look at Lorelei. It was not just fear that seized her face. It was pure and utter horror.

"Surprised to see me, are you? he asked, closing the door behind him, wearing a gloomy smile on his face.

"Uh...no,...I -"

"You disobeyed," he continued, watching Lorelei holding the bat over Lisbon. it quickly fell down from her hands, making a loud noise when it hit the ground.

"You tried to stole Teresa away from me. You´re jealous. You know that I despise that. What were you thinking Lorelei?" he asked, yet Lorelei remained silent.

"SPEAK!" he yelled.

"I...I..." she stuttered, trembling.

"Yes?"

"Look at her!" she pleaded. "Look at her lying on the ground! I did that do her. She was unable to fight me. She´s nothing! A no one! Why would you -"

"You shouldn´t be questioning my choices, Lorelei. You are the _no one_ in this room. You should´ve trusted me. You could´ve help me raise my successor and all you needed to do was follow my plan. However," he continued, making his way to trembling Lorelei, "you chose a different path. Just like that stupid sister of yours..." he added, grabbing her by her neck, roughly. "I thought you were different...I guess I was wrong."

Lorelei sniffled. "My...my sister?"

"Little Miranda, remember her? I sure do..."

"...She was killed..."

"I know that, lover. She just wasn´t the right...material for me. I had to get rid of her."

"You killed my sister?!" she yelled, fighting his tightening grip.

"Surprising, huh? She wanted to meet you so badly...trying to talk some sense to you. I couldn´t let that happen. As I can see, it was useless anyway, you are the same naive idiot she was."

"You didn´t! Why did you do that? What did she ever do to you?" she yelled, tears running down her cheeks.

"She didn´t trust me. You see where that leads? And she was jealous of my companionship with you. Another stupid and pointless mistake."

"You!" he yelled all of sudden, directing his anger at Lisbon trying to crawl away. "Don´t move! If you move just an inch, I´m going to let Lorelei finish her job."

Lisbon stopped moving in an instance.

"See, Lorelei? That woman knows what´s good for her. She uses her brain, she weights the pros and cons and chooses the action leading to saving her life."

Lisbon groaned. That was not true. She wanted to move, wanted to stop him so desperately...but she couldn´t. Not in this condition. Not with her hands tied up.

"I hate you..." Lorelei whispered suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. "I hate you so fucking much..."

"No, you don´t. You just wish you could, lover..." he said, kissing her trembling lips, emitting a tiny moan out of her. "See? You do love me. It´s a shame I don´t feel the same way anymore..."

Red John smashed Lorelei on the ground and she yelled in shock. She stayed on the ground, looking at him with a fearful eyes as he picked up the bat from the ground.

"Bye, bye, Lorelei..."

* * *

"You really think we have a mole over here?" Abbott asked Jane, both seated in the interrogating room. Patrick was cradling a hot cup of tea without sipping it. He wasn´t sure he could´ve kept it in his stomach, not now.

"You don´t believe me," he stated simply, reading Abbott reaction.

"I have no reason to."

"Let me give you one, then. All I need is a little time and all of agents which are present in one room. I´m sure he still here, feeding information to -"

"Sheriff McAllister?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps to someone else. That doesn´t really matter. We need to find him nonetheless."

Abbott looked unconvinced. And time was marching on.

"Look, I know the possibility of overlooking a mole hiding within your own people is a giant punch to your ego -"

"It´s not about that -"

"Sure. But ask yourself. Is it really impossible?"

Abbott sighed after a long silent while, weighing his options.

"No," he finally spoke.

"Then let me find him. Before it´s too late."

"How do I know this isn´t some sort of trick?"

Patrick look the man in the eyes.

"You don´t. I guess you just have to trust me."

Half a hour later, one room was filled with anxious looking agents, who had no idea what was going on and why are they stuck in here, standing like bunch of idiots, instead of working the case. Patrick watched them closely from Abbott´s office, seeing their irritation and discomfort.

"So, how are you going to do this?"

"Easily," he replied and left the room, leaving open-mouthed Abbott behind. He got up seconds later, following the so called psychic.

Patrick stood in front of the crowd, immediately gaining their attention.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Patrick Jane and I´m your main suspect in the Red John investigation," he said and the crowd remained silent. At least for a while.

"Abbott, what is this?" a tall man asked, visibly offended.

"Let the man talk."

"Thank you, Abbott" Patrick continued ignoring Abbott angry look. "As all of you know, I´ve spent few days in hiding with ex-agent Teresa Lisbon, who is another suspect in this investigation. The difference between her and me is...I´m here. She´s not. And the particular reason for her absence is one of you. Yes, that´s right. One of you, here in this crowd, is Red John´s mole. I know you are here and I will reveal you in about a minute or two."

The crowd murmured only like a crowd could. It was an offended sound.

"Are you insane?" Someone asked. "Abbott, why are we wasting our time with -"

"Let. The. Man. Talk," he repeated, glancing a warning look at the man asking questions.

"I will give you a deal, before publicly picking you out. Or better, Abbott here will give you a deal. If you raise your hand right now, you have an opportunity to make the rest of your life a little less miserable. This offer ends in thirty seconds. Raise your hand now, or be damned, for all I care."

The crowd murmured again and Patrick watched every single face in it. People were turning their heads, looking for someone raising a hand, some of them bearing worried face, some of them visibly angry and irritated. Some of them scared.

And one of them...was standing still. Hands in his pockets, not glancing anywhere, just looking in front of himself. No sign of any emotion despite boredom was presented on his face.

That was him.

"You there," Patrick said, pointing at him. "It´s you, isn´t it?"

Suddenly, all sorts of emotion went through that guys face. He smiled at last. "Nice one, Mr. psychic, and so long," he said and before anyone could stop him, he took something small out of his pocket and swallowed it.

"Stop him!" Patrick yelled and jumped right in trying to reach the man but it was too late. The other Agents standing near him got a hold on his seizing body before he collapsed onto the ground.

"No," he whispered, "No..." and someone grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the suffocating crowd.

"Somebody call 911," a woman yelled.

But it was pointless.

He was gone.

* * *

An hour later, Abbott came to Patrick Jane´s interrogating room again. He wasn´t alone this time. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were all sitting around one table, grim looks on their faces.

"We found Agent Adam´s cell phone. Wiley is tracking the last call made and once that is done, we are on our way."

"I want to go with you. Once you track it," Patrick said.

"You can´t."

"Why?"

"You´re a civilian and this is an FBI investigation -"

"There wouldn´t be one without me," he pointed out. "Imagine what else you could have missed along the way. I want to go with you and you will take me," he replied calmly.

"Mr. Jane -"

A knock on the door startled them all.

"Yes?"

Wiley´s head popped in, all eyes immediately on him. He cleared his throat, before speaking. "I´ve located the place from which the last call was made. It´s not so far from where, uh, Agent Lisbon went missing."

"Get the vehicles and team ready. We´re leaving in ten minutes."

Patrick stood up.

"And get this man a freaking Kevlar."

* * *

Lisbon was crying. Her tears falling onto the ground as she pleaded for the man to stop.

"You see that Lorelei? She is trying to save your sorry ass after you tried to kill her," Red John said, administrating another blow.

Lorelei screamed in agony.

"STOP!" Lisbon screamed, "Please!"

Red John stopped and turned around, watching the mesmerizing Teresa Lisbon crying her eyes out for someone who did not deserved it at all.

"Why?" he asked, curious.

"Stop hurting her..."she cried out, sobbing so hard her body shook.

"That´s not a reason Teresa. I´m asking you why should I stop? Why do you care for a stupid little bitch who tried to rape and kill you? Why are you so damn compassionate?"

"Please..."she begged and Red John sighed.

"Is that what you really want?"

"Yes..."she managed to say through the sobs.

"Very well," he said and the bloody bat hit the ground one more time, "I will grant you this one wish," Red John continued and knelt down to her, picking her sore body up, just like a man picks up his bride, "Even though I don´t understand it."

Lorelei squirmed on the ground, groaning and whining in pain, spitting out blood. She watched the man who was her lover for years carrying Lisbon outside.

"Don´t leave her here..." she could hear her say.

"I have to. She´s a traitor. And traitors are always left behind. Now, off to the little chamber with you."

"No, don´t! She will die!"

"That´s the point, Teresa. Good bye Lorelei," he said turning to face her one last time, "It´s a real shame things didn´t work out, isn´t it?"

Lorelei blinked in pain, groaning loudly. She watched the man leave, still hearing Lisbon´s cries and pleads which made no difference after all. Soon, she was all alone, shaking in pain.

Despite her condition, she laughed, coughing up some more blood. He shouldn´t have left her behind. Not with her cell phone in her jacket. She started crawling towards the coat rack, determined to reach it no matter what.

Red John will pay for this.

For her.

For Miranda.

For all of them.

She couldn´t believe that the idiotic woman tried to save her life...it was stupid. She was stupid. Lorelei laughed again. She is going to die. Might as well repay that idiot before she´s gone.

She deserves that much.

* * *

Red John carried trembling Teresa to his pick-up truck after he tied her legs and mouth once again. He checked if she was able to breathe through her nose before tossing her at the back seat of his car.

"Stay still. Stay silent. Got it?"

She squirmed instead of nodding but it was good enough for him. He threw a blanket over her and drove on.

So much to do.

So little time.

Lisbon sobbed through the whole ride, unable to calm down. The sound of the bat hitting Lorelei´s half naked body still hummed through her ears, just as the screams and cries. The smell of blood, Lorelei trying to crawl away, Red John´s frenzied laugh...it was all in there with her, on the back seat of this car.

She wanted so desperately to save that woman despise what she done to her. Or would have done. It wasn´t her fault...she was delusional. Tricked. And probably molested, before he made her into the person he wanted her to be.

It was his fault.

The man sitting on the driver´s seat was to blame.

And now he´s taking her God knows where to...do...

She shut her eyes, still unable to stop the tears coming.

* * *

Patrick Jane literally run into the tiny building in the middle of nowhere, ignoring Abbott´s shouts to stop. He grabbed the doorknob and opened the door wide open. The image in front of him made his stomach turn and he stared in shock at the blood all over the floor.

He ran outside after a second, and hurled while the team entered the place, shouting commands and other useless stuff.

He saw a person lying under the black leather coat...a tiny person, with blood soaked dark hair. His eyes filled with tears and he fell on his knees, sobbing, feeling so empty like he never felt before. They were too late.

How could this happened...?

It can´t be...true.

"Oh, God...no, " he mumbled, swaying gently back and forth.

Some minutes later, Abbott came to him and grabbed him by his shoulder.

"Mr. Jane..."

"Leave me alone," he whispered, shaking his head.

"It´s not Lisbon. And she is alive. The paramedics are on the way but I´m not sure if..."

Patrick lifted his head up, his eyes red. "What?"

"The woman. It is not Lisbon. Says her name is Lorelei. And she wants to speak to you."

Patrick let Abbott help him up and he hiccuped. "I...I am not sure if I can -"

"She won't speak to anyone else," Abbott said, "Go."

So he went.

The image will haunt him for the rest of his life. The blood, her beaten body, her face so puffy it was barely recognizable that she was a woman, that whispering full of pain when he leaned over so she could speak to him.

She gave them a location.

He was able to thank her before she couched up some more blood and nodded.

And she laughed one last time before her heart stopped beating.

Patrick, still sobbing, gently closed Lorelei´s eyes and stood up, making his way to Abbott standing near the entrance.

"So?" he asked, softly.

"I know where he´s taking her. We don´t have much time."

* * *

 _Thanks for reading, even though I probably made it hard to read._


	9. The Red Dress

_(Just a little warning before you start to read. Rating still M for violence and language, yet nothing that explicit - at least not that explicit as was the previous chapter.)_

* * *

Lisbon´s eyes fluttered open. She vaguely remembered being tossed on the bed and...and...what then? The cloth. He pressed something over her mouth and nose, something that made her dizzy at first. She tried to fight, as much as she could while being tied down. And then the world went black. What happened during the time she was out was luckily something she won´t remember.

Unfortunately, she could deduce what had happened.

Her hair was damp.

Her old worn clothes were gone.

She took a quick peek at herself, seeing that she was in fact dressed in something else than the wore out black clothes, which hid her scars nicely.

A red dress.

And nothing else.

"Oh God," she muttered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Finally awake," a voice came from her behind.

She tried to sit up, failing. Whatever he gave her, it was still working. Her mind was foggy. She plopped back on the bed. "Stay away from me," she muttered warily.

"I can´t," Red John replied, facing her.

He looked different, too. The mustache was gone. His clothes changed, too.

"Try harder," she muttered angrily.

He chuckled. "There´s no point in it. You are finally here with me. You are mine Teresa Lisbon and there is literally nothing you could do to change it."

"I will never be yours," she mumbled, fighting the nausea and dizziness she felt.

"You already are. I know you inside out Teresa. I´ve seen everything," he said with a wicked smile."Not just your body, Teresa, no...your soul, too. And I liked what I saw. You are mine and I am yours, you just don´t see it yet."

Lisbon shook her head. "No. You know nothing about me. You´re a murderer and nothing else. I will never be yours. Never, do you hear me?"

"Still trying to resist. Still trying to put up a fight. You´ve always been like this, weren´t you? Don´t get me wrong, it´s a good thing but you are fighting against the wrong person. We have so much in common."

Lisbon gasped when he reached for her shoulder, the fear in her eyes evident.

"I know who you really are. All I need you to do is embrace it."

"Go to hell," she whispered, their sights transfixed.

Red John let out a loud sigh. "There´s no such thing as Hell. Or heaven. The prospect of some greater good watching and judging you...it´s all nonsense. The Kingdom of God. There´s no God. There is no Kingdom. There´s nothing. Just you and me."

Lisbon didn´t reply. Her hand instinctively went to the cross her mother gave her.

It was gone.

"I´ve thrown it away. You don´t need at all where we are going it and you look so much better without it."

"I hate you," she mumbled quietly, keeping the tears at bay.

"I know. But you won´t. I will make love to you -"

"No!"

"Yes. It is just a matter of time. And you will make love to me. Willingly."

She just shook her head violently.

"I know all about your demons Teresa. I know how hard you try to fight them off by being this...this unnecessary good soldier. A martyr. Secretly, you hate it. You hate the way this world works. You hate it all. I know all about you. Look," he whispered, picking up something from the nightstand.

Lisbon looked at him. He was holding tiny notebooks, notebooks she remembered very well. Her diaries.

"Where did you get that?" she asked perplexed.

He smiled, opening one of them. "I visited your old house. And your brothers. They shared some memories with me -"

Anger started bubbling inside of her. Anger stronger than the fear itself.

"You son of a bitch! If you touched my brothers I will -"

"Silence," he ordered, covering her mouth with his giant hand. "We just talked about you. I offered help in finding you. All I needed was a little information to get a better look at how your mind works. They were so worried for the last six months, their sister missing...there wasn´t a thing they wouldn´t do."

Lisbon closed her eyes, cursing herself.

"Your father was an abuser. And you hated him."

"No! I did not -"

 _Dear Diary,_

 _It happened again. I can´t go to school tomorrow. Not while looking like this. I´m too afraid to leave my room. But I have to. Jimmy and Stan will be home soon. I can´t let him do this to them. I just can´t. What would everyone say? I´m afraid that someone will call the social services and tore us apart. That can´t happen. I won´t allow it._

 _Why? Why he has to be like this? I do everything he tells me to do and it´s still not enough._

 _I know that I am not supposed to say things like this, but, I think I´m starting to hate my own father. I hate him already. I hate him with all my heart. I hate him._

He finished reading.

Lisbon remained silent.

"You hated him."

"No. I just didn´t understood back then -"

"What´s not to understand Teresa?" Red John asked, trying to hide the anger in his voice. "You had every right to hate him. To despise him."

Lisbon blinked away the dizziness, or at least tried to. There was no point in arguing with the madman. He kept staring at her, quite angrily and she knew that the only way to stop him from doing the inevitable was to keep him talking. Maybe, just maybe, someone will find out where he took her.

Jane crossed her mind.

What would he do?

He would probably had the man figured out just by looking at him. Lisbon was too terrified, tired and drugged to do that.

Only one thing was evident.

Red John hated his father.

And he wanted to talk. That was her only advantage at this point. She took in a deep breath, sighing heavily, making a choice. She needed to play his game to keep herself safe. Safe as the circumstances allowed her to be. "You´re right. I hated him. I still do," she muttered quietly, watching his smile grew.

His victorious look made her skin crawl, "Finally -"

"But you hated your father, too," she muttered quietly before he could finish his sentence, "He must´ve done terrible things to you..." she continued. His victorious look faded. It was replaced by something else. Fear? Anger? She wasn´t sure.

"Leave my father out of this," he said sternly.

Lisbon shook her head. "Why? We...we share something. Isn´t that the reason you chose me? Isn´t it why I am here?"

Red John blinked. "You are not getting me with this psychology crap darling. I know what are you trying to do. It is not going to work, not with me."

"I´m not trying to get you with anything," she breathed out, trying her best to sound sincere. It seemed to work. "I want to talk. I...I need to talk," she mumbled, tears escaping her eyes.

His hand went to brush them away, and she did her best not to flinch at his touch. It took a lot of effort, but she managed to do it, staying in the character. Something was telling her that it was important.

"My...my father, he...he," she stuttered, keeping her mind on the role she was playing, "he used to be a good man, before, you know? But then..."

"He beat you," Red John said, with a weird spark in his eyes.

"Yeah."

"That wasn´t the only thing he did," he continued and she wasn´t sure whether he was talking about himself or herself. His sight was unfocused.

"No," she said even if it wasn´t the truth.

"My father...was a piece of shit from the beginning," he said calmly, "Nothing was ever good enough for him. But I made him pay for that."

"Did he...did he beat you too?" she asked, worrying if it wasn´t too much.

Red John chuckled, "On his good days, yes. But that is not important. Not anymore."

"What about the bad days?" she whispered, hoping that he will take the bait.

He didn´t.

"You´re good," he said all of sudden, smiling profoundly, "Unfortunately, not as good as me. It´s time to sleep Teresa. I have a lot planned for this evening, I don´t want you all tired out."

"Wait! No! I want to talk!"

He chuckled again, his hands already pressing the same cloth he used before over her face.

She tried to fight it, but it was a no match.

"Breathe," he ordered. "Sleep."

There wasn´t much she could do other than that.

Soon enough, the world faded again.

* * *

"What are we still doing here standing like a bunch of armed idiots?! We know where he took her Abbott. We know! She is in danger! Let´s go already!"

"Mr. Jane! We are the professionals in here. There are procedures we need to follow -"

"Procedures? Procedures?! The hell with them! We need to go. There is enough armed idiots standing around doing nothing!"

"Agent Fischer?" Abbott called, his sight never leaving Jane´s.

"Yes Sir?"

"Why don´t you escort Mr. Jane somewhere he could cool his head down? Before I get him arrested?"

Jane snorted. "This is absurd -"

"Yes, Sir."

Strong hands grabbed him. "C´mon."

"No! Wait! Abbott! Abbott!" He called after the man, while being dragged to the nearest FBI vehicle.

"Quiet," Agent Fischer ordered.

"Very useful," Jane murmured. "Abbott! Abbooott!"

"Stop it!" Fischer muttered quietly once they reached the car. "Sit down. Let us do our job. We know what we are doing."

"Wait! Please..." he whispered, putting on his best hurtful look.

It worked.

Fischer turned around. "Yes?"

His eyes became misty. His hand ran through his wild looking curls. "You´ll get her, right? Promise me that you do."

Fischer´s eyes softened. "I promise," she muttered and before she could know it, Jane enveloped her in a giant hug.

If she knew him any better, she wouldn´t pat him on the back while he faked sobbing on her shoulder. She wouldn´t try to calm him down, nor talk to him in a soothing matter. She wouldn´t believe in his act. And she definitely wouldn´t leave her pockets unguarded.

But she knew nothing about him and she was just about to learn what kind of person he is.

Determined didn´t quite cut it.

When he finally let go of her, she was short of car keys and a pack of gums.

"I do apologize for my earlier behavior...it´s just...she´s a...she´s a good person. Just bring her back safely."

"That´s what we are planning to do."

"Thank you," he muttered, sitting down.

"I, uh, need to go back," she said quite shaken.

"Yeah, you do that," he mumbled, as she closed the door. "You do just that," he whispered to himself.

By the time Fischer got back to Abbott, Jane was gone.

So was the car.

He set the GPS coordinates for the location Lorelei gave them, and drove off.

It was not a smart thing to do.

A little smarter than leaving him alone in an FBI vehicle, with keys in his hands, but still, not very smart.

* * *

She opened her eyes once more, this time feeling a lot worse than the first time. It wasn´t just the pounding headache, or the nausea. No. The fact that she couldn´t move was way worse. And the worst of all was the hand she felt sliding up her bare thigh.

"Get away from me!" she yelled, jerking herself upwards. Not that it mattered.

"Not in the mood?"

"Go away, just go away..."

"I wanted to wait, honestly...I really did. But I can´t Teresa, I can´t. I want you and I want you now."

"Leave me be, please just leave me alone," she muttered, too tired to fight. He ignored her murmurs, as his fingers unbuttoned the red dress. Second by second, Red John was closer to her, his hot breath in her ears, his hands sliding all over her body.

And she couldn´t do a thing about it.

Suddenly, all of it felt unreal.

This can´t be happening. He is not really wrapping himself around me, he´s not kissing my neck. His hand is not...down there, squeezing, pinching...pulling the red dress up...

But he was doing all of it and after few seconds filled with pure horror and resignation, Lisbon bit back.

Literally.

When his hand covered her mouth to stop her from screaming, something snapped. Everything snapped. The past few months, the picture of her friends bodies mauled, the hunt, the things he made her do, even Lorelei being beating to death, it all caught up with her.

So, she did the only thing she could do.

She bit and she bit hard.

Soon, screams echoed in the tiny red room, screams which luckily didn´t belong to her.

"Are you insane?" he yelled, holding his bleeding finger in his free hand, "You nearly bit my finger off! Fuck!"

Lisbon didn´t reply, she just savored the few moments in which his body wasn´t pressed against hers.

"Do you know what I´m going to do with you?" he yelled angrily, slapping her with the uninjured hand. "I wanted to be patient with you, but as it seems, that´s not what you deserve!"

"Go to Hell," she muttered.

"I agree with Lisbon," someone said, someone standing in the door, holding a gun.

"You really should go to Hell."

Lisbon´s eyes widened upon hearing _that_ voice.

Jane.

For a tiny moment, she hoped it was just a hallucination, but once she looked that way, she knew that this was real. Patrick Jane was standing in the door, armed, aiming his gun on Red John.

"Jane?"

"Hey Lisbon. You okay?"

"Just peachy," she muttered, while Red John watched them in silent awe, the blood from his finger still dripping.

"Well I´ll be damned," he said, "Look what the cat dragged in -"

"Don´t even think about it," Jane muttered angrily through gritted teeth, as Red John leaned closer to Lisbon.

"Or what? You shoot me?"

"Yes," he replied sincerely.

"Oh, I´d like to see you try..." he said, "you know, killing a man is not as easy as it looks...and judging by your shaking hand I´d say you never did it...you´re nervous."

"You are no man to me," Jane said, placing his finger on the trigger.

Red John smiled and nodded. "Do it then," he said, with his hands up. "Do it. I´m at your will, Patrick Jane, unarmed and ready to die. All you need to do is pull the trigger."

Patrick´s hand trembled. That little moment of hesitation, those few seconds during which his brain and body froze up, those seconds gave Red John just what he needed. He was fast. He was prepared. And he knew what he was doing.

He grabbed Lisbon, and held her as a human shield, the knife of his pressed tightly onto her neck.

"Too late," he whispered with a devious smile on his lips, "now, drop the gun."

"Don´t," Lisbon yelled, and Red John responded with pressing the knife even tighter.

She yelped.

"Drop it, now! Thaaat´s it. Now kick it to me. Good boy. On your knees, hands behind your back. "

"Jane don´t do that!" she yelled and whimpered as the knife pressed to her neck made a tiny cut.

"Do it, or she´s gone."

Patrick hastily dropped on his knees.

"Good. Now, sweet dreams Patrick Jane," he muttered and picked up the gun which was kicked to his feet.

Patrick closed his eyes. And then, the world went black.

"No! Don´t hurt him. Please, don´t hurt him!" Lisbon yelled, squirming under his strong hands after he hit him on the back of his head.

"Why not? He´s no one."

"Don´t!" she yelled again, when Red John aimed the gun at unconscious Jane. "Please! Don´t kill him!"

"Teresa...you´re making me upset. Why should I let him live?"

Lisbon mind raced. If Jane was here, the rest of the FBI or whoever found them wasn´t that far away. They have their position, even though she had no clue from where. It is just a matter of time before they reach them...

At least she hoped in that.

"I don´t want anyone else dying for me," she breathed out, "I´ll...I´ll be all yours. I promise. But...if Jane got here, the rest of the team is on their way...let him live...and we...you know...we can just leave. Somewhere else. I´ll...I´ll do what you tell me to do...I swear. Just...let him live, please," she pleaded. "That´s all I´m asking for. There´s nothing else."

The knife still pressed against her neck lowered a little.

"All mine?"

"Yes," she replied hastily.

"Your life for his?" Red John asked. It was something he really didn´t understood. Why would anyone chose someone´s life over his own?

"Yes," she said resolutely and stopped wriggling in his arms.

Red John smiled. "Very well. I will give you this one wish. Last one. No more disobeying. No more lying. You do what I say. You will listen to me. You will be mine. You are mine," he whispered into her ear.

Lisbon shivered.

"Yes."

Red John let out a bark of laughter.

"Let´s go then. We have so much to do..."

Red John untied her legs, just to make it easier for both of them.

She wasn´t using them anyway, not the way she should. He had to use a considerable amount of force to pick her up and drag her off of the bed. Lisbon let him half carry, half drag her out of the cabin. She had no power left to fight. Her mind was hazy. Foggy. All that she cared about was getting away from unconscious Jane, just for his sake. No more murders. No more. Not him.

The knife was still pressed tightly on her neck when they stepped out of the cabin.

Light.

Too much light.

She couldn´t quite grasp the meaning of it. It was coming from everywhere.

And Red John swore.

It was too late.

He couldn´t believe it.

"You´re surrounded. Drop your weapons, now!" A loud voice echoed all around them.

Was that she heard? Was it even possible?

She could feel his hot breath on his skin.

For a moment, time stopped.

Red John sighed.

So, this is the end, he thought.

There was nothing he could do.

They were all around. He could see them all.

"My, my..." he muttered, placing a kiss on her neck. "So...this is the end...my dearest...I won´t part with you...you are all mine. If I can´t have you, Teresa Lisbon, no one will!"

Lisbon let out a strangled cry when the knife pressed to her neck dug deeper.

And deeper.

She heard gunshots, multiple, she could feel her own blood streaming down her body.

Red John´s hold on her softened.

Then, it was absolutely gone.

She herself fell on the ground, her hands trying to stop the blood flowing out of her neck.

Not that it helped.

Soon, her own sight turned black.

Faintest screams was what she recognized before the blackness took her away.

* * *

The light.

The light brought her back.

Her eyes fluttered open.

Calmness.

She felt calm.

For the first time in ages, she felt calm.

Ultimately calm. No pain. No regrets. No guilt. Nothing. Just the overwhelming sense of tranquility.

She felt safe.

"Teresa..." someone whispered, "wake up baby girl..."

She knew that voice.

"...Mom...?"

"Oh, Teresa...I´m so glad to see you..." she whispered, enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Mom? What´s happening? What are doing here?"

"I came to see you, baby girl. I missed you so much."

Tears dwelled in Teresa´s eyes.

She couldn´t believe in what was happening. It felt...so real, yet so unreal at the same time.

"I missed you too," she muttered, trying to get a hold on herself. "So...so much."

"I know sweetie...I know. But you have to go back. You can´t stay here."

Here? Where is here? And why not? She isn´t hurting anymore. She feels safe here. For all that matters, here is better than anywhere else.

"No. I don´t want to go back," she muttered, shaking her head.

"You have to, darling."

Lisbon looked around.

A car.

They were in a car.

Mom´s car.

Everything else was white. White as snow. Yet, she felt warm. Content.

"Where are we?" she whispered.

"Somewhere safe, Tee. But you can stay here for long...it´s not your time."

"It wasn´t your time, either!" Teresa yelled, "And you´re gone...gone..."

"I´m still here Tee...In here," she muttered, placing her hand above her heart, "And in here," she continued, stroking her hair, "I´m never that far away, baby..."

"I...I don´t want to go back mom..." she replied, tears escaping her eyes, "I want to stay here with you..."

"You can´t darling. I´ll be gone soon. I just came to tell you to hold on. To be strong. To be brave. Can you do that for me, Tee? Please?"

"I...I...am not sure."

"Well, I am sure you can. You´ve been through so much...I know you´ve been...but he´s gone. He´s gone thanks to you. And you still have to go on. To live. For your brothers. For your friends...for yourself."

"But...I´m so tired mom...so tired...I just want to sleep here with you. "

"I know, oh, I know you are, but you know what? You just have to hold on for a little while longer Tee, like when you were a kid, remember? Just hold on a little while longer."

"I don´t know if I can do that," she replied with shaky breaths. "I feel like I can´t. Not...anymore."

"You can Teresa. I believe in you. And I love you so, so much."

"I love you, too mom..."

"I need you to promise something to me, before you go..."

"Mom..."

"Listen to me," she said sternly.

"What is it?" Teresa asked, breathing heavily.

"Promise me that you won´t stay alone. Once you go back, you won´t stay alone."

"Mom...I -"

"Promise me that Teresa, please..." she pleaded, tears dwelling in her eyes, "Promise me that you´ll find help. You have friends. You are not alone in this world. Promise me that you won´t stay alone," she said resolutely.

Teresa´s hand went to her neck.

"He took it," she cried out, "The cross you gave me...he took it away from me...!"

"Here baby, it´s here. See? I still have it. And now, I´m giving it back to you," she said, placing a golden chain around her neck, "There. It´s back where it belongs. It will protect you. But now, you have to leave!"

The engine started all of sudden.

"You have to leave now."

"No..."

"You have to! Go!"

"Mom..."

"I´ll always be with you, you know that? Do you?"

"Yes, but -"

"Now! Go! Before it´s too late."

"I love you mom..."

"I love you too honey. We all love you," she whispered as Teresa stepped out of the car.

The world was no longer white.

Nor safe.

Nor calm.

Darkness enveloped her.

"Promise me _..."_ were the last words she could hear from the afar.

 _"She´s alive!"_

 _"Hurry people, we don´t have much time!"_

"I promise..." she whispered before falling into darkness.

* * *

 _Apologies for such a late update to anyone who´s still interested in this story. Real life is tough at the moment. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the read and more soon, I hope. Thanks for reading :)_


	10. Part Two: The Aftermath

It´s been few months after the death of Red John. Four months, twenty-five days and few hours to be precise. Two months, five days and six hours since he last heard from Teresa Lisbon. She left the hospital, signing the AMA and claimed to be living with her brother and his family for a while. Patrick contacted Stan a day before, and the news her brother had, had not been good ones.

 _"She´s not here, man,"_ the oldest brother of three said in a gloomy voice.

"What do you mean she´s not there? Where is she?"

The line went silent for a while.

"Stan?"

 _"I don´t know. She left over a month ago."_

"A month? And you kept it to yourself why exactly?"

 _"She asked me to. In a letter, I mean. Look, we tried to make this work, but I have a family. Kids. They don´t understand...you know? They were terrified every time she...well, had a nightmare or -"_

"So you just let her go..."

 _"I didn´t tell her to leave! I swear! But -"_

"Do you have any idea where she might have go to?"

A sigh.

 _"No."_

"What´s in that letter?"

 _"Dear Stan,_

 _Thank you for letting me stay here with you and your family, but as we can both see, it´s not doing any good to any of us._

 _I´m sorry that I couldn´t keep myself together, I really am._

 _I´m leaving. I have to. I can no longer stay at your house, scaring the kids and your wife like that. This will be better for all of us. Don´t worry about me, I´ll be fine._

 _PS: Don´t try to contact me. If anybody asks, I´m still with you. I need to get through this alone. It´s important to me. I will contact you once I feel better. I Promise._

 _Love you,_

 _Teresa._

Patrick poured himself another glass of scotch. It was few minutes past midnight. A while ago, a vivid nightmare woke him up. A nightmare consisting of bloodied bodies, sirens and fear.

Drenched in sweat, breathing hard, he got up wondering how is Lisbon doing.

If he´s such a mess, what she must´ve be going through?

Alone. She wants to deal with all of this alone. As if it was possible. He tried calling her several times, yet the call went right into voicemail. He called Cho, Rigsby...and no one had any idea of her whereabouts.

"Where are you Lisbon?" he asked, standing in front of a window, sipping on the scotch.

"I´m going to find you, whether you like it or not," he whispered, putting the scotch away. He picked up his phone and dialed Rigsby´s number.

"Wayne? Hi, it´s me, Jane. Can I talk to Grace, please?"

* * *

 **Two days later, Rigsby´s Residence.**

"Do you really think she might be hiding in there?" Grace asked, zooming on one of the houses.

"It is possible. It´s one of the few places she probably feels safe. It´s her home. No need to pay for rent or talk to other people. She knows the neighborhood."

"Hm," Grace hummed, "here´s the video from two days ago, not far from the address you´ve given me...look, here. I think that looks kind of like her," Grace said and zoomed the video in.

Wayne leaned to the screen. "Yeah, could be her."

"And a week before, this," Grace said, pointing at another blurred and zoomed in video of traffic camera, "the same person. Same outfit."

"Yes," Jane nodded, sipping tea, "It certainly could be her."

He kept staring at the tiny person, walking with her head bowed down. As far as his eyes let him see, the person had the same brown hair as Lisbon. Same frame. Same height. Not the same weight, evidently. The person on the screen looked...thin. Thinner than she used to be.

Which, considering all circumstances, might be just about right. From what Stan told him, she was not eating that well. Nor sleeping well.

All in all, she was not well at all.

Grace and Wayne kept glancing at him, the question evident in their eyes.

"I´ll make the trip," he said all of sudden, knowing that as much as her former teammates wanted to make sure she´s all right, Grace was very close to her due date. She wouldn´t be allowed to travel by plane and driving such a long distance in a car - any car, would be risky.

Cho was in Texas, working with the FBI.

He got an offer from Abbott and took it.

As much as he wanted to help out, his new team was in middle of serious case. There was no way in hell in which he could take few days off to check up on someone, who might or might not be Lisbon.

"I´ll help you book the flights," Grace said with a relieved smile.

"Thank you, Grace."

"And I´ll order some pizza," Rigsby said seriously, making his wife roll eyes on him.

* * *

The room was cold, murky and dark. The winter season came early this year and left her unprepared. She was shivering under an old worn blanket, with a bottle of Jack Daniels co by her side. Her eyes were closed, however she wasn´t sleeping. Giant tears were streaming down her face and she took another gulp of the sour beverage.

Getting drunk. Wasted even.

That was the plan.

Not just that it kept the cold away, it kept everything away.

As far as she was concerned, that was better than nothing.

Through her whole life, being the daughter of an abusive drunk, she wondered how once a good man could transform himself into _that._ Drinking his life away, drowning himself in alcohol day after day.

The wonder was replaced with tremendous understanding during these few months.

She tried it once, after a particularly rough day. It took her few bottles of beer mixed with whatever she whatever she had left before she passed out on the floor of her old bedroom and woke up the next day, nightmare free. Sure, she felt like dying. That wasn´t just a normal hangover. She spent the day leaning over toilet seat and when the night came, she did the same thing as the other night.

She drank.

It worked. The alcohol in her system helped her to take the edge off. The anxiety that used to leave her breathless and wheezing for air, somehow subdued after being intoxicated. Her nights weren´t full of screaming and crying, they were full of her being out of it.

As her body got used to the alcohol in her system, she needed more and more. Now, her whole body shook as she worked her way through the bottle.

There were sleeping pills placed on the table in front of her. She stole them from a drug store the other day. Not a nice thing to do, certainly not for a former Officer of the Law, but then again, she had no source of income anymore.

And she needed money for something else.

If things got worse, she gulped few of them down as well and let the world disappear again.

She was vaguely aware of the idiocy behind her actions.

It could kill her, she could pass out on her back and God knows what might happen next. It wouldn´t be happening for the first time. She was used to wake up wet from her own vomit.

Yet, once the PTSD kicked in, she got no strength to fight back. Not anymore. So she played a dangerous Russian Roulette with her life and hoped for the best.

She just didn´t know what the best was supposed to be anymore.

Because _he_ never really left.

She could see him in every corner, every shadow, every dream she´d have. And he made it quite clear that he was here to stay. The rational part of her of brain, the one that was not yet overtaken by the anxiety and depression tried to reason with the other part.

He´s dead. Gone. The FBI is hunting the rest of his associates down. He died right there, beside you. No one is going to hurt you.

And she knew that. Maybe that´s why all of this seemed to have such an effect on her. She knew one thing, and her mind believed in another.

That he´s never really going away.

And despite knowing that he is in fact gone, she knew he would never really leave her alone. That though, the inability to fight against him, made her go crazy. Not the fear of being hurt again, or fear in general...no.

Her own mind being poisoned by him, that was what scared her more than anything.

Sometimes, she could feel his phantom hands sneaking around her waist, whispering right into her ears.

 _"You´re mine. Finally."_

Sometimes, he finished what he started back in that damned cabin and those were the worst nightmares of her life. One like that awoke her just minutes ago. That´s why she was crying her eyes out, clutching the bottle in her shaky hands.

One more bottle.

One more pill.

And maybe, just maybe, everything will go away.

* * *

Two days later, days spent traveling to the destination where Lisbon might be hiding, Patrick Jane stood in the cold Chicago weather, right in front of an fairly old, uncared for house. Nothing gave up the fact that someone has been probably living there for over two months.

At least not from the outside.

He took in a long breath, followed by a long exhale.

Not daring to go in without any kind of notification, Patrick knocked on the front door.

Nothing.

He knocked some more.

"Lisbon? Are you in there? It´s me, Patrick...I uh...I came to see you...if you´re in there, please, let me in."

Nothing.

The door was locked. However, he didn´t travel such a distance to let a door stop him from finding out if she´s there.

A bobby pin, always carry a bobby pin. That´s what his father used to say. He was a crook and all of his other advices were mostly lousy ones, but not this one. He fiddled with the lock for about twenty seconds, hoping that no one was watching him and finally, the door opened.

The first thing that let him knew that this is beyond bad was the state of the room.

Dark.

Cold.

The second thing was all the bottles lying around.

And the third?

A tiny figure lying on the ground, motionless.

"Lisbon?"

Nothing.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room, but once they did, he knew that he has found her.

He hurried to her, dodging bottle after bottle, until he reached her.

"Lisbon! Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

His hand went to her wrist, seeking pulse, finding a shallow one.

Her clothes were wet and smelled of alcohol. His own breath was condensing right in front of his mouth when he exhaled, even in the inside. It was freezing cold in there. He doubted Lisbon had any means to heat the place.

She wasn´t shivering. That was bad. It meant her body has stopped fighting with the cold.

She wasn´t responding. Another bad omen.

She was breathing and he focused on that. His stomach turned into a tight knot when he realized what he has to do. Her wet clothes needed to be removed.

As fast as possible.

He shed his own winter coat and jumper, feeling the cold creeping on his own skin. Minutes later, he was holding unconscious Lisbon in his arms dressed only in a shirt, dreading what he was about to do.

His hands reached the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly.

He nearly spotted what he was doing when she shuddered from his touch and a silent "No..." came from her lips.

"It´s okay, Lisbon. It´s okay. It just me, Jane. I´m not going to hurt you," he muttered nervously, relieved that she was not in fact unconscious, yet still terrified.

Her small hand reached his, struggling to keep him away and he swore under his breath.

"Get off," she pleaded desperately.

"Lisbon, it´s me, Patrick Jane. It´s me," he said more calmly this time, all while reaching for his cell phone.

Her eyes fluttered open for a millisecond.

"It´s okay. I am here to help you but you have to stop fighting me. Can you do that?"

She stopped struggling, her breathing still shallow and ragged.

"...Ja...ne?"

"Yes."

Her eyes fluttered open again, this time for a little longer period of time, as she was trying to focus on his face.

"I wish you were here," she whispered tiredly before closing her eyes again.

Jane blinked the tears away, "I´m here," he whispered back. "Lisbon? Can you hear me? Teresa?"

She didn´t. All those months finally caught up with her. Her tiny frame began to shiver in his arms.

"Shit," Patrick muttered and continued with his initial plan of getting her cold, wet shirt off. She didn´t struggle this time, not even when he took down her bra as well, nor when he put on his own, warm jumper and then, his coat over her.

The shivering became worse. She was shaking now.

He grabbed the cell phone hastily and dialed 911.

* * *

Lisbon sighed contently while she sat on the front porch of her old house, watching her brothers play just like she used to do it every day during the whole summer.

She wasn´t cold anymore.

The sun shone bright, yet she was wearing a black winter coat with a brown jumper underneath it.

It didn´t make any sense.

These clothes were too big for her tiny self. Yet, they were warm, and they had a familiar scent which made her feel safe. It was nice. She liked it.

It was ages since she felt like this.

All of sudden, a woman sat down beside her.

She turned her head and saw a pair of eyes as green as hers staring right back at her.

"You promised, Tee," the woman said with a hint of accusation in her voice.

"Mom? What are you doing here?"

"You promised," the woman repeated herself.

"I...I -"

"It´s okay sweetie, I am not mad. I just want you to stay safe. I don´t want you to go all alone through this."

"I have to watch the boys," Teresa replied, feeling lighter and lighter every second. Her head spun.

"Which boys?" the woman asked.

Teresa looked around. Their old house was gone, so was the front yard, alongside with her brothers. Instead, there was nothing. Just plain white nothingness all around them.

"You can´t stay here -"

"You keep saying that, but what if I want to?" Teresa asked quite angrily. "I am so tired...I can´t go on," she continued in much more calmer voice. "I just want it to be over with."

"You promised," the woman said once again.

"Mom -"

"Didn´t you?"

"I did. What if I can´t keep the promise? What then, mom?"

"Then you have lost, and you´ll be all mine again."

"M-om...?"

"Guess again, my dearest.

The voice changed. So did the place. The plain white was replaced with dark red.

Suddenly, she could feel hands creeping over her shoulders.

"You´ll be all mine again. And this time - _this time_ \- I won´t be letting you go."

"You´re dead," Teresa whispered, "Gone."

His hold on her hardened. "Am I?"

She shivered. "Yes."

He turned her around. "Then why I am still here?" he asked with a wicked smile. "Why can I still touch you...hold you...scare you? Why can I still make you scream?"

"YOU ARE DEAD!" she yelled, shaking in his arms. "LET GO!"

He chuckled. "I will never let go, Teresa. Never."

Lisbon couldn´t breathe from the force of his hold.

"Never ever," he whispered right into her ear before her legs gave up.

The last thing she heard before her mind fell back into the black hole was her mother saying those two words...

 _"You promised."_

* * *

"What´s happening?" What is happening to her?"

"Sir, I need you to step out, now!"

"No! Wait!"

They ushered him out of her room. All he could do was watch her convulse violently on the hospital bed, before one of the nurses closed the blinds. He kept breathing in and out, trying to calm himself down a bit, however it did no good. So, he kept walking up and down wondering if he got to her too late. That particular thought was making him sick. His stomach turned despite being empty.

No. This couldn´t be it. He came there in time. She´s strong. Stronger than him.

Stronger than anyone he knows.

She survived having her throat slit.

Even the doctors considered it as miracle back then.

No one had given her much of a chance and...and...

He couldn´t keep it anymore.

Patrick made a beeline to the nearest restroom, ignoring the looks other people gave him. He grabbed the doorknob, almost running in, feeling sicker by the second.

The place looked like any other hospital restroom, and he was beyond grateful that is was empty. He did what he needed to do, remembering the last time he was in a similar situation few months ago. He had just woken up with a pounding headache, being placed in hospital bed himself, and had no idea what had happened and how did he end up there.

And then it all came crushing down on him.

The minute Abbott has informed him about what Red John had done to Lisbon, and that she is surgery with a slim chance of surviving, he did what he was doing now.

He threw up.

Maybe, at least back then, it was also a combination of the small concussion which he was having and the pain meds that made him sick.

Now, it was just the thought of losing her just because no one had had the time, or taken any effort to make sure she´s doing fine.

True, she was lashing out on everyone that tried to help. She was refusing any kind of help to be precise. And even though he spent a lot of time beside her hospital bed back at the time, somehow, she made him leave.

And once he was gone, she disappeared, leaving behind nothing more than a note and the feeling of failure mixed with desperation.

"Damn it," he muttered, brushing his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

Of course she lashed out on everyone. What else there was to expect?

She made him leave all those months ago, yet he came back few hours later, hours spent thinking, contemplating and in the end realizing, that leaving her was the most idiotic thing he could´ve done.

But she was gone.

She signed the AMA and left.

There was not a chance he would leave her all alone this time. Not again.

Patrick stepped out the restroom after he splashed some cold water on his face, unaware of the surprise waiting for him.

"Who are you and what are you doing here, trying to pretend to be Teresa´s brother? Which I know you are not?"

Patrick stopped dead in his tracks, looking into eyes of an elderly nurse, a nurse that was clearly standing in a defensive position, ready to hit him if he says something inappropriate.

She looked old enough to be Lisbon´s mother, maybe even a little older. She wore cross on her neck, so familiar to which Lisbon used to wear before that bastard threw it away. Her face was full of wrinkles and worry lines, possibly from having such a demanding job and a definitely a huge demanding family.

"You have about ten seconds before I call the cops, young man, so if you have something to say, this is the best time to speak," she said and crossed her hands on her gigantic chest.

Patrick cleared his throat before speaking.

"You used to work with Lisbon´s mother -"

Her eyes widened. "That´s it. I am calling the security -"

"There´s no need to do so. My name is Patrick Jane -"

"Patrick Jane?" the woman asked, a hint of recognition flashing in her eyes. "The psychic?"

"Yes," he simply replied. There was a big hoot after the mighty FBI stopped a notorious serial killer from murdering another victim, killing him in the process. Even his own name was mentioned in some news articles. To be completely honest, he was glad that period of time was gone.

"You sure do look a lot different than on those news paper pictures," she said warily, yet the initial anger was gone. "My name is Nurse Emma Willson."

"Nice to meet you Nurse Willson," Patrick said extending his arm. She reached for it and the force of her hold surprised him.

They stared at each other for a few seconds.

"How is she?" Patrick broke the silence.

Nurse Willson sighed. "Stable. For now. She needs to have her core body temperature reheated and if there are no complications, she will be discharged -"

"Wait...wait, I saw her having a seizure...they can´t discharge her just yet -"

"That wasn´t a seizure. That was a panic attack."

Patrick sighed quietly. "I -"

"You are a friend of hers, aren´t you?"

 _"I wish you were here..."_

"Yes," he replied, nodding in the process, "Yes I am."

"That´s good. That kid never really had many friends while growing up. I hate to imagine her being all alone now, poor little thing," the nurse spoke, dabbing at her teary eyes with a napkin. "She was a good kid, you know? She took care of everything after Anna died. She never complained."

"Sounds like her," Patrick whispered.

"You´ll take care of her then? Being her friend and all. Look, Mr. Jane, I know her brothers. They are good people, but -"

"I´ll take care of her," he spoke resolutely, "That´s why I came here for.

She eyed him, weighting the verity of his words, "That´s very noble of you," she said.

Patrick just shuddered. "It´s the least I can do."

* * *

He knocked on the door before entering, not really sure why he did that. It wasn´t like Lisbon could get up and open the door for him. Maybe he wanted to give her some sense of control over the situation.

He waited for several seconds before a silent, "Come in," sounded through the closed door.

"Hey," he said and closed the door behind him.

"Hey," came a silent reply.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, making his way to Lisbon´s hospital bed. She blinked, and focused her eyes at him.

She let out a loud sigh.

"Not good," she admitted. "Not good at all...Am I dying?" she asked.

"No," Patrick replied shaking his head.

"Oh... so, you´ re real? This...this is real?" she asked, looking around herself.

"Yes," he said and sat down beside her just like those months ago. "Don´t," he whispered calmly, grabbing her hand softly when she tried to fiddle with her IV.

She flinched at his touch.

"It´s just an IV. It supposed to help you get warm. Make you feel better."

She gave him a puzzled look. "An IV? Where...where am I?"

"Chicago General," Patrick replied, watching her expression closely. Her eyes widened upon hearing that name. She was genuinely surprised. Not in a good way.

"A hospital? And...and, what are you doing here Jane? I thought that you were just..." she trailed off.

"I am here. Really here."

She kept staring at him, her eyelids drooping from time to time. "You look different," she mumbled, "Weird haircut..."

Jane had to chuckle. Yes, his haircut was a bit different after Red John had hit him. They´ve had to shave a considerable amount of his hair off in order to treat the wound.

He was rocking a shorter hair now, waiting impatiently for the blond curls to grow back.

"It´ll grow back," he said with a tiny smile.

"Good..."

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Jane?"

"Yes?

"Why are you here?

Patrick took in a deep breath. Lots of reason came to his mind. Lots of which he would spent hours talking about, yet he wasn´t sure she is going to be able to listen to his reasoning for such a long time. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Lying there pale as the sheets underneath her, the scars still there, the paleness making them visible even more. The one on her neck was the worst. It crept from one side to another, bright red, painful...

A reminder of just how strong she is.

"I am here to help you."

Her eyes fluttered open. She sighed.

"I don´t think you can," she whispered shaking her head. "I don´t think anybody can."

"I beg to differ."

"Jane...I´m a mess. The best thing you could do is leave me alone, go somewhere far away from me and just...just...live your life. I am nothing more than a reminder of him. The woman you thought you knew is gone for good. All it left...is this...," she said, pointing at her neck scar.

"That´s not true," he stated calmly.

She just chuckled. Humorlessly. Tiredly. "You have no idea..."

"I have some ideas. None of them consist of you being just a reminder of... _him_. You are strong. Brave. And you´re suffering from PTSD. You don´t have to go through this all alone. I am positive you would make it eventually, however, I want to help you. Speed the process up, so to say. I want..." he cleared his throat, "I want to be there for you."

"I am not so good with people now..." she murmured, eyes closed. "Eventually, you will leave...making it even harder for both of us to go on. It won´t be your fault -"

"I am not going to leave you. Not this time. You can lash out on me all day long, you can make fun of my new haircut for as long as you want to. You can throw me through the door and I will climb back through the window. You saved my life multiple times. You almost sacrificed yourself twice...just to save me. I made a mistake leaving you back then...and I came to correct it. Please Lisbon, I am truly begging you...let me help you."

"What if you fail...what if I fail. Is better if you just leave me now. forget. move on...stop trying...to..." she spoke, her speech slurred.

"That is not possible. I can´t...Lisbon? Lisbon...?"

She was out of it.

Maybe it was due to tiredness, maybe it was the drugs they gave her.

"I won´t leave you this time," he muttered silently, intent to keep his promise.

He didn´t just want to help her. He wanted to see her smile again. To be herself once again. His consciousness was somewhat soothed thinking that she is living with her brother, and that she is being taken care of...

Being wrong didn´t happen that often what it came to Patrick Jane.

Once it happened, it did not feel good.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. The sound gave him a little scare and he fished that damned piece of technology out of his pocket.

A message.

Rigsby.

 _"Hey, how did it go? Was Lisbon there?"_

He started typing his answer when a cold pale hand reached for his.

He took it and gently entangled his fingers with hers.

 _"Hey. I found her. She´s going to be fine. I´ll call you later."_

He pressed the send button, watching Lisbon breathe peacefully.

"You are going to be just fine..." Patrick whispered, brushing her and with his thumb. "From now on...you won´t be alone. Not anymore."

* * *

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it a bit. See you later :)


	11. Chapter 11

She struggled with staying awake through the whole night. Her eyelids fell and rose every now and then, as she pushed herself up every few minutes before collapsing back into hospital bed.

Jane was there through the whole night, speaking to her, calming her down. His presence was reassuring in some way, however it did not stop the nightmares from lurking. She wasn´t sure anything ever will.

She felt sick. Nauseated. Almost through the whole night.

Luckily, he was ready for that.

He handed her a bowl that was there for such an occasion before she could threw up on the ground and held her hair while she emptied her stomach. Surprisingly, his touch didn´t make her skin crawl. Other people touching her, even her own brother, did. Even a gentle pat on back from Stan´s wife almost cost her a black eye. That was when she realized that it was time to leave. Fast.

Jane could touch her without the damned need to protect herself.

That much she knew so far.

"Better?" he asked, handing her a napkin.

"Yeah," she croaked, taking the white cloth gently and wiped her mouth.

"You should get some sleep."

"No-o..." she coughed out. "I´m fine. Not tired," she mumbled, eyes closed again. Only for a while though.

The whole night went pretty much that way.

When the sun rose, Lisbon was discharged.

She had no clothes in which she could leave, so Jane gave her his jumper and coat once again. She tried to argue with him, but he wouldn´t listen.

"I have some clothes back at the house," she muttered.

"Fair enough. Let´s go get them then. "

It felt surreal. All of this. She couldn´t believe this was happening. After those months of being on her own, scared and broken, she still felt scared and broken, however she was not alone, anymore. Strangely, it did not make her feel that good.

So many _what if´_ s were floating in her mind.

What if she can´t be helped? What if the only thing she´ll be able to do is fail? What if this it it? She miss her mom. She miss her cross. And she miss being herself the most.

What if she won´t ever feel like herself ever again? What would she do? Where would she go? There was not much she could do. Not in her current state. And literally nowhere to go. Her old man came back in her memory. A drunkard. Passed out on the couch . A broken man who couldn´t keep himself going anymore. An apple never falls far away from the tree. There few months has proven it. She shivered despite the heat in the rented car. Despite her new oversized warm clothes. Jane must´ve sensed that something was wrong.

"Lisbon," he said quietly. Calmly.

"Um?" was the only sound she could muster as a response.

Breathing became hard again. She was vaguely aware of the wheezing sound she was making.

Jane puller over as soon as he could, stopping the rented car.

"Lisbon, look at me."

She couldn´t.

"Look at me," he said gently, ignoring the cars driving by.

She did.

"Breathe," he said slowly, "Breathe with me. In...and...out."

She gasped after the initial failed try to sync their breathing.

"That´s okay, try again. Just listen to my breathing and follow my lead."

She stared at him and remembered the one time she did the same thing to him. It happened just few months ago, after they´ve escaped from Red John, yet it felt like ages ago. He had trouble breathing back then, too.

He calmed down back then, eventually.

So did she.

"Good, Lisbon. You´re doing fine. You´re fine."

"Thanks," she mumbled, resting her head on the seat and closing her eyes. "I hate this..."

"I know you do. It´s all part of the process, I´m afraid," he said and when their car was back on the icy road.

"Process?"

"The healing process. The more you try to fight it, the longer it will take. However, eventually it will be over and you will be yourself again."

"How can you be so sure?"

She wasn´t. Not even a tiny bit.

"Because you already done that once," he said silently.

Lisbon stared at him. "I did?"

"I am pretty sure you did. After..." he said and his voice gave up. He cleared his throat.

"After the first time," she finished for him.

"Yes."

"That was different," she muttered, looking out of the window. It started snowing.

"Was it?"

"Yeah, I...I...it was just different."

"You were on a mission. You had other things occupying your mind."

"I guess."

"Look Lisbon, you may think that you are weak for feeling like this, however, believe me that you are not. Those..." he whispered, and gave her a look full of understanding, "scars are not a sign of your weakness. You went through hell, _twice_ , and came back. And you´ve made it. He´s gone. You´ve made it possible. You´ve made a difference in this world. You are strong. Wounded, yet strong. You´ve survived. You´ll live. And you will get better, okay?"

Lisbon sniffled silently. She was unaware of the tears streaming down her face until one of them fell on the back of her hand. She wiped them furiously, trying to regain some control over herself.

"O-kay," she breathed out hoarsely. Don´t cry, she thought to herself. Just don´t cry. Don´t fall apart now. But Jane already pulled the car over once again. She couldn´t look at him.

"Let it out. You´ll feel better," he whispered, watching her closely. She tried to fight it, he could tell, but not for long. She started sobbing, yet he didn´t dare to touch her. It would do more harm in her distressed state than good. So, instead of enveloping her in hug, something he wished he was able to do, Patrick sat there with her and when she reached for his hand, he gladly gave it to her.

He couldn´t care less for how long they just sat there, in the rented car, while the country outside slowly disappeared under white snow. She should take all the time that she needs.

"Your hand is freakishly cold," she eventually muttered in a hoarse and shaky voice, "Let´s go before you freeze. I´ll be fine."

And just then, Patrick couldn´t help but chuckle.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded, breathing slowly again.

So he drove on, wondering how can she think she´s weak.

She just stopped her own breakdown because his hand was cold.

He didn´t point it out, though. He was sure she wouldn´t see the irony.

They´ve stopped at Lisbon´s old house, picked some essential stuff and cleaned the place before leaving. After the initial wondering about where they should go, since the house was hardly considered livable, Lisbon agreed on a hotel room. At least until some other idea pops up.

It wasn´t the best option. Still better than no option.

The breakdown that never really happened seemed to take a toll on her. So did the night spent at the hospital. And all those night spent all alone. She was still pale, too pale for his liking. Except for the black bags under her eyes. She needed to rest. To eat. To take a shower. She needed all of that and fast.

"We´re almost there," Patrick said, dressed in his own clothes again. Lisbon was able to find some winter wear of her own.

"Okay," she whispered.

"It´ll be fine, Lisbon."

"It´s just...I am not really comfortable around people..."

"Understandable. Don´t worry though, I´ll deal with people. No need to socialize for you." At least for now.

"Okay, fine."

* * *

He was right. Lisbon could swear that the woman at reception didn´t even realized that she was there as well. Her whole focus was on Jane and his smile. Maybe, if these were different circumstances, she would roll her eyes at both of them.

Now, she was just glad. She was tired of people staring at her all the time.

Soon enough, Jane unlocked the door to their room.

Her eyes opened wide.

This place was huge. It wasn´t a room.

It was a freaking apartment.

"Jane...?"

"Yes?" he asked after he shed his winter coat.

"...what the hell...?"

"I wanted to treat myself. Feel free to take advantage of it," he said with a smile.

"But...but this must cost you a fortune," she breathed out, walking into the TV area.

"Meh, it´s nothing. We have everything we need in here. As I told you, there is no need to socialize unless you want to. There´s two bathrooms, two bedrooms, one for you, one for me and a tiny kitchen area. And a kettle. I made sure they had kettle in here somewhere," he spoke, rummaging through the kitchen accessories. "Ah, here it is. Care for some tea?"

* * *

Lisbon was standing the rather huge bathroom, filling the tub with hot steaming water. She felt weird. All of this felt weird. Jane. The apartment. Everything. She fell out of sorts. As if the person standing there, looking into mirror wasn´t even her.

She was in her old place just two days ago, all alone. Desperate. Cold. And drunk.

Forty eight hours later, and here she is.

She should feel better by now, shouldn´t she?

Yet, she wasn´t.

She felt guilty.

Apart from all the others feelings.

Jane seemed to be fine with everything. Maybe he was pretending, maybe he was not. Still, she couldn´t understand the motive behind his actions.

Why did he care? She made him leave in the first place. Sure, they´ve shared a lot of hard times together...but this. This was weird.

The water was making strange sounds. It should be running. It shouldn´t be just droplets falling into water. She turned around and her heart skipped a beat.

The bathtub was replaced with another one. Older one. Familiar one.

The room faded.

She inhaled a shaky breath when someone enveloped her in a soft hug from behind.

"Hello darling," he spoke in that damned sweet voice of his, "miss me already?" his hands roaming all over her body.

Not again. Not now.

"Go away," she muttered gingerly. She wasn´t ready for this shit again. Her heart raced.

"Why would I do such a thing? I´m here, with you. Again."

"You´re not real," she whispered, closing her eyes. "You are just a fragment of my imagination. You...you´re not real!"

"Remember the last time you took a bath when I was there? No? I am not surprised. You were so out of it. I had to do all the work myself. Wash that cigarette smell of off you...change those dirty clothes of yours..."

"Shut up! Leave. This...this is not real!"

He held her tighter. "Maybe. But it was back then. You were so soft. So white. I nearly lost my patience and fucked you right there on the stone cold ground."

She couldn´t speak anymore. Her whole body shook.

"I didn´t. You want to know why? You do, do you? Oh, I´ll tell you my dearest Teresa...I wanted to wait, I wanted to make you moan, scream even. No...no...I´ve waited. I´ve took time to explore you...all of you. I´ve washed you, bathed you, shaved you...touched you..."

"Stop," she breathed out, struggling to get away from him. "Go to hell!" she yelled. "Leave me alone! You´re dead! YOU ARE DEAD YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!"

"I am not dead. I´m alive. I´m inside you and you´re all mine. Just like you promised, Teresa. All. Mine."

 _"You promised, Teresa..."_

"Never break a promise, Teresa..."

 _"You promised..."_

* * *

Patrick didn´t even bother knocking and picked the lock on the bathroom door when the yelling started. It took him few seconds get himself in. Lisbon was standing by the bathtub, clutching its edge, her knuckles white from the force of her hold.

Her eyes were closed.

The water was in the tub was almost overflowing.

Patrick jumped the distance, turned the faucet off, mindful not to touch her. Yet.

"Lisbon? Can you hear me?"

She shook lightly. But remained silent.

"Lisbon, it´s okay. You´re safe. It´s okay," he whispered soothingly, reaching for her hand.

"Don´t touch me," she muttered through gritted teeth."Go away!"

"It´s me. It´s Jane. Patrick. It´s just me...you can open your eyes now. Nothing will happen to you. I am here."

He saw blood flowing from her lower lip. She must´ve bit it. Badly.

"Lisbon," he whispered once again, gripping her hands. She whined but eventually let go.

Once her hands left the cold surface of the tub, her legs gave up. She collapsed into Jane´s arms.

He lowered them both to the ground, whispering soothing nothings to her. She couldn´t quite make the words, but listened anyway.

His tone was all that kept her from falling apart altogether.

"Can I?" he asked, touching her chin lightly, "You´re bleeding."

"Is nothing," she mumbled, gripping his shirt tightly. Her chest rose up and down franticly.

"Let me take a look -"

"No...No! I don´t care if I am bleeding right now Jane! That´s the last fucking thing on my mind right now! I...I can´t live like this," she cried out shivering in his arms. "I can´t take this! He´s dead! Why...why can he still do this to me...Why Jane? Why can´t it just be over. I want it to be over. I...I´m so, so tired..."

"I know you are. I know Lisbon. It´ll end. Everything is going to be fine..."

"I...want it to be over. Now. I hate this. I fucking hate all of this!"

"Hey," he whispered, gazing into her eyes. "You can do this. I know it´s hard, and you feel powerless, still, I trust you to get through it."

She shook her head. "I...I can´t. He...he can touch me. I can feel his hands on me. He´s stronger than me..."

"He´s just a shadow. A part of your subconscious that needs to be dealt with. He won´t stay there forever, trust me. You´ve been through so much, of course there is an aftermath. He´s not a part of you , he´s just in your memories. You will never be able to forget, however, you´ll learn to ignore it. It will take time, maybe few weeks, maybe months, maybe a year -"

She chuckled tiredly. "I don´t think I can go another day like this...not to mention a year..."

"It will get better. Day after day, week after week."

"Jane..."

"I´ll be there with you. You won´t walk this road alone, okay? You won´t."

She started sobbing. "Why...why...do you even...care...?"

"Because you deserve it. And I missed you. So, so much. I´m sorry I left before. It was wrong of me -"

"I made...you...leave," she spoke through sobs, resting her head on his chest.

"I should´ve stayed."

"I was horrible...to you."

"Not because you wanted to. You thought it will be better for me that way...and I hate to admit it, I thought the same. I´m rarely wrong Lisbon, and I take pride on that fact..., I´ve never been more wrong in my whole life."

"Yeah," she said and hiccupped, "not even when you thought that taunting a serial killer on a national TV was a good idea?"

Patrick chuckled, shaking his head. Sarcasm. Bit of old Lisbon shining through. "Okay, point taken. I was wrong back then as well. Everything happens for a reason and sometimes that reason is making bad decisions...Still, look where it brought us. He´s gone. You did it. The world is a safer place thanks to you."

She remained silent for a while. "It wasn´t just my doing...and I wish I could feel good about it," she whispered. "I wish I could...sleep without seeing him every night. I wish...other´s didn´t have to pay such a high price because of me. Sam and Mandy...that woman at your place..."

"No," he muttered, thinking about poor Clarissa. He himself still felt guilty about her death, too. In reality, the only one person who should feel guilty was buried a few months ago. Patrick wasn´t sure if that sick fuck could feel such an emotion anyway.

"They didn´t die because of you. They died because of him. And you´ve avenged them."

"I´ve just helped avenging them, I wasn´t alone...," she whispered, and looked up at him.

"Yes and no... you were alone through hardest parts."

"So were they," she mumbled. "Maybe...maybe I deserve this."

"No. Don´t even think something like that ever again, okay? It´s not true."

She remained silent.

"Lisbon. Look at me," he said gently. "Please," he added when she made no move.

She looked up. Eyes red, puffy and a look of pure desperation on her face.

"You do not deserve this."

"You can´t be sure..." she muttered.

"I can and I am."

She sniffled again.

"I thought he raped me," she whispered, looking down.

Patrick froze. She never spoke about what happened back there. She gave her statement, which everyone believed not to be full.

She wasn´t examined.

She wouldn´t consent.

Despite that, she was given medication to prevent STD´s and possible pregnancy.

Everyone thought it happened, not just her.

"If...if what I saw was now true...he wanted me to be conscious for..." her voice gone.

"What did you see?" he asked silently.

"He...he drugged me. When I woke up my clothes were gone. I was wearing that dress...I thought...oh, God, I think I´m going to be sick."

"Breathe," Jane whispered, rubbing soothing circler on her back.

She did, much like back at the car.

The nausea subdued a little.

"I...think he...bathed me. I don´t remember much but it keeps coming back. He kept touching me...I couldn´t do anything about it. I remember...water. His hands all over me..."

She looked up to see Jane´s face. His lips were pressed into thin line.

"You came in time," she whispered. "Without you...he would´ve done it. He would -"

"Don´t," he whispered. "You don´t have to continue."

She nodded. There were other things she never told anyone. No one had any idea what Lorelei did to her. Not Abbott, nor Cho...no one. Her stomach turned just by thinking about it. Jane shifted a little, making it easier for her to do what she needed to do. Soon enough, her coughing echoed through the bathroom. The tiny sandwich she somehow forced down her throat earlier was making its way back up.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"Don´t apologize. I´ll clean it up, okay? Can you stand up?

"Yeah...I guess," she replied uncertainly. Her legs were shaking like a guitar strings.

Jane hadn´t said a word and helped her up.

She tried to protest but she was too tired. Tired beyond measures. Her head spun. Everything spun.

"I´d like to...freshen up a little," she muttered, pointing at her face.

"Of course, I got you, go ahead," Patrick said, supporting her.

Once she was done washing the blood from her lip of off her face, he helped her reach her bedroom and bed as well. "I think I´ll shower tomorrow," she mumbled after plopping onto the bed, pulling the covers over herself.

"As you wish, there´s no hurry." Patrick replied and sat down.

"You don´t have to stay..." she whispered, "just...leave the door open."

"I´ll stay."

"No need to...," she mumbled groggily.

"Maybe. Yet I am staying. Sleep. You need it."

"I don´t know if I can fall asleep," she said truthfully. "Guess I just...rest for a while."

"I could...I could help you. Make your night a dreamless one," he said, watching her expression closely.

She glared at him. "How?"

"I cut put you into light trance -"

"No."

"It´s not harmful. You will have a dreamless night, that´s it."

"No."

"Lisbon, you are exhausted -"

"So? You think that´s a good excuse to mess with my head?"

"No. I think it is a good excuse not to be awoken by vivid nightmares. It´s definitely safer than drinking yourself to sleep, passing out and causing yourself a hypothermia on the way," he said trying to sound calm.

Lisbon sighed. Heavily.

"No. It´s not safer. Look Jane, I know you are just trying to help me and I´m grateful for that, but if I´d agreed to it tonight, what would happen tomorrow? Will you put me into trances until the end of my life? I...I know that what I´ve been doing was a bad idea...but this is equally bad. Worse even. And...if you try to -"

"I won´t. I wouldn´t even dare to try it without your consent. I value your trust more than that," he said and managed to smile, "Okay?"

"Okay," she replied silently, visibly calmer and cleared her throat.

"Thirsty?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"I´ll get you a glass of water," he said standing up.

"Thanks," she muttered, watching him leave.

When he returned with the glass of water, she was already asleep. He left the glass on the nightstand and went to the bathroom, leaving the door open as she requested.

He cleaned the mess as silently as he could, listening to any kind of noise that could be coming from her room.

He peaked inside from time to time, satisfied to see her sleeping soundly.

However, the satisfaction was quickly replaced with rage.

McAllister. The man made his mind go red with anger.

A vision of Lisbon laying in a tub, powerless and vulnerable, entered his mind. He tried to push it away, yet it kept coming back.

"Damn it!" he whispered silently, not wanting to wake her up.

She must´ve been utterly exhausted if she could fall asleep after this flashback. The man who had done this to her deserved way worse than being dead and rotting under the ground. Way, way worse. Patrick sighed. He needed to remain calm, for her sake if not for his. He strode to the kitchen area, and made himself a cup of tea. He took the cup to Lisbon´s room, and sat down on her bed. Carefully and silently. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up.

As he sat there, listening to her calm breathing, he contemplated their whole situation, trying not to dwell on the anger still bubbling inside of him.

His life turned up and down during these last few months. He lost his job (obviously), sold his place for a considerable lower amount for which he had bought it. Yet, he was glad that he got rid of it. Too many bad memories were connected to that place. A woman lost her life there. He nearly lost his life there as well. So did Lisbon.

To be honest, he himself had trouble going back to the normal life.

It was not so easy to deceive and lie to people anymore.

Not after he saw where it could lead to.

His priorities has changed as well.

Helping Lisbon was...is...his main goal now.

"I´m glad that I´ve found you," he whispered to her sleeping self.

She answered with silence. Which was good. It meant she is getting the much needed rest.

His mind trailed to the day he made one of the greatest mistakes in his life.

The day her lashing out finally made him leave.

She was insufferable back then.

The more Patrick thought about it, he wasn´t any better.

 _"Why don´t you fuck off and leave me alone? I´m fine!"_

 _"I just want to help you. The doctor said -"_

 _"I don´t care what he said. I am fine."_

 _"Teresa..."_

 _"Don´t call me Teresa!" she yelled._

 _"That´s your name, as I recall correctly, isn´t it?"_

 _She closed her eyes back then. The monitor she was hooked on started beeping faster._

 _"Don´t. Call. Me. That. Call me Lisbon. Just Lisbon. How hard is it to remember? Aren´t you supposed to have this great memory or something? "_

 _"Fine, I do apologize -"_

 _"Yeah. Sure. Whatever."_

 _He had enough of it. Every conversation they had back then ended in a fight._

 _"What do you want me to do?" he asked, unable to read her correctly thanks to the red foggy cloud of anger in his mind._

 _"I want you to leave me alone," she whispered, avoiding his intense stare._

 _"Is that so?"_

 _"Yes," she stated sharply._

 _"Fine." He said and that was it. He stood up, grabbed his suit jacket and left without glancing at her._

 _He couldn´t see the tears streaming down her face once the door were closed._

 _Nor he had no idea she signed the AMA shortly after he left._

 _He wandered the streets for hours burning the pent up energy and desperation. The anger was replaced with worry few hours later and he came back._

 _Only, she was gone._

 _Nothing was left of her except a note saying good bye._

"I am so sorry," he whispered.

Silence.

Good silence.

Patrick fished his phone out of the pocked and wrote a quick text message to the Rigsby´s. After few minutes, he wrote one to Cho as well. Her former colleagues replied within minutes, relieved that she was found and is no longer alone.

And an hour later, when she started trashing on the bed, he was there.

They were right.

She wasn´t alone anymore.

* * *

Thank you for reading. I hope you´ve enjoyed it :)


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